Bad Memories
by Bill K
Summary: Mamoru's search to learn what caused the accident that killed his parents may get him and Usagi killed, too.  Plus Haruka wants to give her sister a gift and her parents don't like the idea.
1. Shadows Of The Past

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 1: "Shadows Of The Past"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic  
>By Bill K.<p>

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><p>Sailor Moon and all related characters are (c)2011 by Naoko TakeuchiKodansha and Toei Animation and are used without permission, but with respect. Story is (c)2011 by Bill K.

* * *

><p>A rustling from the small alcove that Usagi used as a studio roused Luna from her nap atop the back of the sofa. The alcove had been a walk-in closet at one time, in Luna's estimation, but Usagi liked it and it kept her from being distracted - - most of the time. A glance at the clock told Luna that it was four-thirty, too early for Usagi's usual late afternoon trip. Recently Usagi had gotten the brainstorm of picking Mamoru up at work and then walking over to whatever restaurant she planned to buy take-out from to fulfill her part of the cooking bargain between her and her husband. At first, Luna saw it as yet another way for Usagi to avoid her responsibilities, but the prospect of picking her husband up rather than wait for him at home seemed to motivate Usagi to remember to pick up dinner in the first place. Grudgingly Luna had surrendered her disapproval.<p>

Another rustle piqued the cat's curiosity to the point where she actually got up and wandered into the studio. There she found Usagi working on the pencils for a page of the latest chapter of the spy manga she was drawing. The woman would draw a figure, then look at the clock; sketch in the background, then look at the clock again.

"You'll only do a poor job if you divide your concentration like that," Luna commented.

"Then look at the clock for me!" Usagi squealed, beginning work on the next panel. "Tell me when it's five."

"If it will keep your concentration centered," the cat sighed. "Have you spoken to Minako recently?"

"Last night," Usagi answered as she drew. "She's still depressed. But I think she's coming out of it." The woman glanced at Luna. "Don't you ask Artemis how she is?"

"I do - - but Artemis tends to be a little overly emotional where Minako is concerned. I can never tell if his opinion is an accurate reflection of the situation or colored by his - - well, paternal interest in the situation. I find that by hearing your side as well as his, I can distill an accurate assessment of the situation."

Usagi stared at her for a moment and Luna knew she'd lost her.

"Whatever," Usagi mumbled, shaking her head. "Thankfully the bad publicity is finally dying down. Maybe now people will leave her alone and let her heal. What time is it?"

"Four thirty-seven," Luna sighed.

"She seemed a little more upbeat last night. I think she just has to get out more - - be with people. If I didn't have this story to finish, I'd take her out. She seems so lonesome."

"Well, that is her doing. Nobody could expect someone to stay loyal after a betrayal like that," Luna proclaimed.

"Some people could," Usagi murmured.

"No luck in finding Ace?"

"No. That man can disappear better than anyone I know."

Usagi finished the page and sat for a few moments, torn. She glanced at the clock. She scowled. She glanced at the script clipped to the top of her drawing board. She scowled again. Her brow furrowed.

Then she picked up her pencil box and stored her .7 mm mechanical pencil in it.

"You're stopping?" Luna demanded. "It's not even five yet!"

"So I'll be early," Usagi pouted. "All this talk about Mina-Chan being lonely has made me miss Mamo-Chan."

"Discussing the grocery list would make you miss Mamoru," Luna muttered sourly.

"I heard that!" Usagi growled. She was struggling to put on her jacket.

"Then hear this," Luna shot back. "When you're rushing to complete your assignment because you frittered away your time on anything and everything BUT your art . . .!"

"You'll have told me so!" Usagi fumed as she fought to get her shoes on. "Don't you always?" And out the door she flew.

"I'd prefer some seafood for tonight's dinner!" Luna called after her. The door closed. "Heaven knows why I bother sometimes." And the cat reclaimed her perch on the sofa.

* * *

><p>It was also afternoon in the house that Haruka Tenoh and Michiru Kaioh shared. Michiru sat at the kitchen table, sharing tea and cake with her mother, Constance Grace Kaioh. The last name was now an affectation, as she and Michiru's father had been divorced for sixteen years. Constance Kaioh, the former professional dancer and international jet-setter had slowed down the last few years, after a successful bout with cancer. Michiru had noticed the change in her formerly fun-loving and flighty mother with growing approval.<p>

Then Constance reached over and stole the cherry from atop Michiru's slice of cake.

"Old habits die hard, I see," Michiru observed sternly.

"Oh, loosen up, Michi-Chan," Constance replied smugly, the cherry poised between her thumb and forefinger. "You never liked cherries anyway."

"Who says?" protested Michiru.

"Well I never saw you eat them as a child," Constance argued.

"I never had a chance. You always beat me to them."

"Oh," Constance replied contritely. She looked at the cherry for a moment. Then she popped it into her mouth. "I guess you've got to learn to be fast."

"And that's another thing," Michiru grumbled, for the cherry was small aggravation in comparison. "How many times have I asked you NOT to call me 'Michi-Chan'?"

Constance leaned in, her lined face still attractive and a lock of her blonde hair tumbling across one eye.

"Dear, you will ALWAYS be my little 'Michi-Chan', so you'd better resign yourself to it," she said playfully, but with an undertone of seriousness.

Michiru sighed with frustration and sipped at her tea.

"I saw you and Haruka play last month," Constance told her. "It was breath-taking."

"I never knew you to be a classical music fan," Michiru replied.

"Well, I'm not," Constance shrugged, causing Michiru's eyebrow to arch. "You know I tend more to show tunes. Actually I'm talking about the show itself. Michi-Chan, you had the audience enraptured. I've always said you have such a commanding stage presence. It really sells what you're doing. You just take the audience on a trip they'll never forget. And that's just with you, your violin and your accompanist. It's not a gift to be taken lightly." She sipped at her tea. "I've always wondered why you don't tour more often."

"Haruka is only available for about five months out of the year," Michiru said. "And I won't do it without Haruka."

"Well, I can understand that," Constance replied. Then she grinned. "Are you and she still lesbians?"

"Yes, Mother," Michiru replied, her grin unable to be stifled.

"Then grandchildren are still out of the question?"

"As of the moment," Michiru answered, then switched subjects. "So how are you and Dad doing?"

Constance grew quiet and cupped her hands around her tea. Michiru instantly picked up on it. Constance always seemed to lose her glibness when something serious came up.

"That's," Constance began, "sort of kind of why I dropped by. Honey," and she took a steadying breath, "what would you think . . ."

Michiru studied her, suppressing the urge to prod her along.

"Well, what would you think," Constance continued, "of your father and I getting married again?"

* * *

><p>Rei was inspecting the grounds of the shrine and greeting visitors when she spotted Makoto coming up the steps. Hope began to swell in the priest. Though the rational part of her had believed all along that Makoto would stop by simply because Rei had asked her, there was a tiny, insecure part of her deep down that feared Makoto wouldn't. It was silly, but it was there and no amount of rational argument on the part of Rei's brain could banish that lonely little nine year old girl who missed her mother and wondered why her father didn't want anything to do with her. Toddling along next to Makoto was her son, Ichiro. When he saw Rei, the boy waved happily. Hit with a burst of child-like joy, Rei waved back.<p>

"I'm glad you could spare some time for me," Rei smiled, cutting the distance between them. "And I'm sorry for dragging you over here. I'm sure you've got a lot of things to do."

"It's no trouble," Makoto replied. "I had to pick up Akiko from school anyway and the shrine isn't THAT far out of my way." She knelt down to Ichiro. "OK, Champ, you go have fun on the grounds. But don't get dirty, OK? And don't talk to strangers."

"Yes, Mommy," replied the four year old boy. He turned and sprinted for the small bridge over the pond in the back of the grounds.

"I'm going to hate having to let him go to school next year," sighed Makoto.

"Still, I shouldn't have asked you to come all the way over here," Rei persisted. "I should have visited you."

"Or you could have called. You do have a phone now."

"Yeah," Rei nodded. "I'm still getting used to that."

"Well I'm here. So what did you need to talk to me about?"

Rei sighed, hard. Immediately Makoto knew Rei was troubled by something and was embarrassed by the fact that she was troubled by it. Patiently she waited for her friend to work up the courage to confide the problem.

"I," she began haltingly, avoiding Makoto's gaze entirely, "got a letter."

Makoto waited for more.

"From," Rei struggled, "Derek."

"Derek?" Makoto asked, puzzled. Then she remembered. "The American baseball player you were stuck on?"

"Yeah," Rei scowled.

Makoto remembered that Rei had broken off the relationship after traveling all the way to the United States only to find him with another woman. She only knew that because Rei had confided in her one day when the pain of the breakup became too much for her. It had been a closely guarded secret for years. The other senshi only knew because Usagi had pried it out of Makoto and then told the others, much to Rei's chagrin.

"What's he want?" Makoto asked.

Rei sighed again. "Well, he was let go by his team in America - - San Diego, I think it was - - and he has two offers he's trying to decide upon. One is with a lower level club in America. It's less money and less prestige. The other option is to rejoin the Yomiyuri Giants at the money he was making before. But he wrote and asked me what he should do." Rei's face scrunched up as she stared at the ground. "He probably doesn't want to come to Tokyo if it will upset me. And he probably doesn't want to come back unless he might have a chance of . . ." She grimaced.

"Of picking up where you left off?" Makoto asked. Rei nodded. "Do you want to?"

"How can I? How can I possibly trust him again? Look what trusting an untrustworthy person got Minako!" Rei fumed. Then she fell silent.

"But you want to," Makoto assessed. "And that scares you."

"Sure it does," Rei replied.

"You don't want to get burned again."

"Would you?"

"Me? I got burned by so many guys when we were teenagers, I couldn't get fire insurance for ten years," Makoto smiled wistfully. "I don't know if I'm the one to ask."

"Well I trust your judgement in this," Rei explained. "Usagi's too pie-in-the-sky, and Ami doesn't have your experience. And Minako - - it's just not the right time to bring up something like this."

Makoto began to walk slowly down one of the shrine's paths. Rei followed along hopefully.

"If it were me," Makoto began tentatively, "and I still had feelings for him, I'd say 'yes'. But only IF I could forgive him for what he did. I know that's tough for you, Rei. If you can't forgive what he did, don't do it." Then she sprouted a dreamy smile. "But some guys are worth giving a second chance to."

"But," Rei fretted, "what if it happens again?"

"Well, there's no guarantees, Rei. Everything in life is a risk. You have to decide whether what you gain is worth what you're risking. And you're the only one who can do that."

Rei walked on, still conflicted.

"The way I see it, everybody's entitled to a mistake, Rei," Makoto advised her. They passed through into a clearing. The pond was visible now. Ichiro stood on the bridge watching the fish in the pond swim around. When he spotted his mother, he waved. "Maybe you can give Derek another chance. You don't have to marry him the minute he hits Tokyo. Look at him with clear lenses instead of the rose-colored ones. See if he's changed, if he's ready to atone for his mistake." She shrugged. "And in the mean time, maybe you and he can have a little fun."

"Fun? What's that?" Rei quipped.

"Maybe that's your answer," Makoto told her. "Rei, matches only burn you when you let them. But doing without them doesn't make you safe - - it only makes you deprived of a source of great comfort and joy."

"You'd think a Fire Priestess would know that," Rei sighed.

Ichiro ran up and Makoto scooped him up into the air, holding the boy to her.

"Did that help?" Makoto asked.

"It gave me something to think about," Rei nodded. "Besides, I don't want to keep you."

"Call me if you still have doubts. You do have a phone, remember?" Makoto said. Rei grinned. "Come on, Champ. Let's go get your sister. Give your Aunt Rei a kiss."

Rei leaned in and pecked the child on the cheek. The priest watched as Makoto let the boy slide to his feet, then walk hand in hand with Makoto to the steps leading down to the street. She turned away and wandered back into the grounds.

"I'd hate to bring Derek all the way over here and then not be able to let him in," Rei mused. "But I have to be honest: I do miss him."

Rei realized she was absently massaging her breastbone. Flushing slightly, the priest headed for her quarters in the shrine.

* * *

><p>"Well, just sit up here and let's see what's wrong."<p>

Mamoru was in an examination room in the offices he shared with Ami Mizuno. His patient was a four year old boy, accompanied by the boy's mother. The boy was complaining of headaches. Even now the child was lethargic and sullen, the result of his pain. Otherwise he seemed like a normal four year old boy. His mother, a small woman with black hair like his, helped the boy onto the examination table and hovered by the boy's side. Mamoru smiled. The boy didn't know how lucky he was to have a mother so devoted to him. As long as she didn't get in the way of the examination, he would let her dote on her son all she wanted.

"Now I'm going to have a look at your eyes," Mamoru told the boy, taking out a pen light and bracing his free hand gently on the boy's forehead to hold the eyelid back. "Try to follow the light. Has he suffered any injury to his head, Mrs. Nishi? Even just a bump?"

"No," Mrs. Nishi gasped fearfully. "Not that I know of. Of course, he is a normal boy and boys do get rough sometimes. You haven't hit your head, have you Iboshi?" The boy shook his head.

"Pupils are responsive," murmured Mamoru. "And he hasn't been diagnosed with any allergies?" Mrs. Nishi shook her head. The woman was quaking with fear. Mamoru gently felt around the boy's cranium. "No trauma that I can find. Is he sensitive to light?"

"Not at all," Mrs. Nishi responded. "Doctor Chiba, what is it?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Mamoru assured her. On a hunch, he gestured for Iboshi to open his mouth. Using his pen light and a tongue depressor, Mamoru looked over the boy's mouth. At length, he spotted something. "Mrs. Nishi, when was the last time your son was at the dentist?"

"I," the woman hesitated, "can't get him to go. Is that what it is?"

"In the roof of his mouth, back by the molars is a growth," Mamoru explained. "Possibly an abscess, possibly something else. But the growth is in the right spot to be pressing against some of the nerves in the lower right sinus cavity. And pressure on the right nerves could induce headaches. A dentist would be better equipped to find out exactly what that growth is and where it's pressing."

"I'll take him to one right away," Mrs. Nishi proclaimed.

"But Mom, I don't want to go to a dentist!" the boy wailed.

"Oh Iboshi," she cooed, trying to calm him. Her hand gently ran through the boy's thick black hair.

Then she noticed Dr. Chiba staring. He was looking at them, but it was like he was somewhere else, seeing something else that only he could see. Mechanically his hand came up to his forehead.

Ami was in the other examination room with a patient. Her patient had been diagnosed with diabetes, and she was discussing what lifestyle changes would have to be made to accommodate the patient's condition. Suddenly the door to the examination room burst open. Ami turned with a start and found Chiyo the receptionist standing in the doorway, in a very agitated state.

"DR. MIZUNO, DR. MIZUNO!" she gasped. "Come quickly, please!"

"Chiyo-San, what is it?" Ami inquired anxiously.

"It's Dr. Chiba!" she screeched. "He's fainted! He may be hurt!"

Continued in Chapter 2


	2. Haunted

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 2: "Haunted"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic  
>By Bill K.<p>

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><p>Walking down the street toward the building that housed the medical office of her husband, Usagi smiled at the prospect of seeing Mamoru soon. It had been an eternity since he'd left that morning. While she did have to admit that being alone in the apartment with just Luna and the radio did allow her to concentrate on her art, she'd gladly trade it in a second to be with Mamoru all of the time. And picking him up at work gave her that much more time to spend with him.<p>

"Plus that mean old Mrs. Yoshiba finally retired," Usagi smirked triumphantly. "Chiyo lets me go in anytime I want."

As she walked, though, her thoughts drifted away from her anticipated reunion with her husband and toward the troubles of her friend, Minako. Poor Minako felt so bad: deserted by her lover, shunned by her ex-husband, criticized by the public for her actions and generally depressed. Usagi could tell that Minako didn't want to just sit around and miss Ace. But it was too soon to find someone else. And what future did she have with anyone else as long as Ace was somewhere on the planet? The desire to do something to alleviate the situation hung on Usagi's shoulders like fifty kilo weights. But what could she do?

The elevator let her out on the second floor, where Mamoru's office was. She was about to open the door when a small black-haired woman burst out of the office in a dead run, pulling a young boy behind her. She nearly knocked Usagi down and didn't so much as offer an apology, instead heading straight for the elevators.

"Wow! I hope she's late for something important to be THAT rude," Usagi mumbled, staring after her in shock. Dismissing the incident, she walked into the office reception area. There she found Chiyo at her desk, the young woman frantically pressing out numbers on her phone. "Chiyo-San, what's wrong?"

"Chiba-San!" Chiyo gasped. "It's your husband! Dr. Chiba! He's fainted!"

Usagi's world seemed to spin. After a second that seemed like forever, Usagi burst for the door to the inner offices. She grasped the knob and frantically pulled at it. Only after several of Usagi's frantic tugs was Chiyo able to push the button and release the lock on the door. Usagi whipped open the door and tore inside.

In the examination room, Mamoru was sitting up. Ami knelt beside him, working the blood pressure cuff and calmly taking the reading. Mamoru was understandably disoriented.

"Your blood pressure is a little low, Mamoru, but it's in acceptable levels," Ami told him. "Did you skip lunch?"

"No," Mamoru exhaled. He looked around. "What happened to my patient?"

"I'm afraid they went running out of here," Ami told him. "Your collapsing in front of them must have frightened them." She began feeling around the top and back of Mamoru's head. "Do you know if you struck your head when you fell?"

"Honestly I don't remember," wheezed Mamoru. "Ami, I'm not having blackouts again, am I?"

"That's hard to say at the moment," Ami replied. "What is the last thing you can recall before you passed out?" Mamoru was about to answer when the door burst open.

"MAMO-CHAN!" Usagi shrieked. She dove for Mamoru, coming to a stop on her knees beside him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Instantly she began weeping, all the while maintaining a grip of iron around her husband.

"It's not that bad, Usako," he tried to reassure her. "I just passed out for a few moments."

"ARE YOU GOING TO DIE?" Usagi wailed in mortal terror.

"No, I'm not going to die," he said gently, massing her back with his left hand.

"Ami?" Usagi asked, for even she knew that Mamoru wouldn't tell Usagi even if he were dying.

"He just passed out for a few moments," she confirmed what Mamoru had told her. "At the moment, we're trying to determine why."

"The medics are on their way!" Chiyo said, popping her head in the room.

"Call them off, Chiyo-San," Mamoru told her.

"No, let them come," Ami overruled him. Mamoru gave her an impatient look. "You know the old saying, Mamoru: Doctors make the worst patients. You just let ME decide what's best right now." Mamoru signed in disgust. "Now what was the last thing you remember?"

Mamoru's brow furrowed. "I saw that woman do something with her son," he began, "and it brought back a memory. One of my mother."

"A new memory, Mamo-Chan?" Usagi inquired.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I was six. She was kneeling in front of me. She ran her hand through my hair and then caressed the side of my face. She told me we had to go. Her manner was - - urgent, scared. She was scared, but I don't know if she knew what she was scared of. Maybe she was scared because my father was scared."

"What was he frightened of?" Ami asked, her tone calm, but pointed.

Mamoru scowled. "I-I don't remember."

"What happened then?"

"We," he continued, searching for a memory that for most of his life had been a stranger to him, "we got in the car. My father wouldn't even let us pack anything. I didn't know where we were going. But I knew we were going too fast. My father was so focused on - - getting away. I don't think he realized how fast he was going."

"And then," Ami gently prodded.

Mamoru stared for a moment. "And then we went over the embankment."

Usagi gasped in horror. Just then, medics from the Tokyo Fire Department entered the examination room. Ami turned and gestured them in.

"I want an EKG and another BP reading," she told the medics. "And if you've got an oxygen bottle with you, he'll need that, too."

"Epidrene?" one of the medics asked.

"Not at the moment," Ami replied, intently examining Mamoru's eyes as the oxygen mask was put over him. "But keep it handy, please."

* * *

><p>Michiru Kaioh was curled up on the sofa, staring absently at the carpet. She was contemplating the news her mother had delivered earlier, news of her estranged parents possibly reuniting in marriage. To many people, it would be good news. Having divorced parents reunite was often the dream of children of divorce.<p>

Yet Michiru just stared and wondered if it was indeed good news.

"Michiru?" she heard Haruka call out. Turning, she saw Haruka enter the room. Haruka was excited about something. Curiosity about what had her love excited distracted Michiru from what she had been thinking about. She uncurled as Haruka approached.

Then she saw the brochure in Haruka's hand. It was from a car manufacturer. And if there was one thing Haruka Tenoh loved as much as speed and her, it was cars.

"Tell me this is a car you want to buy for Junko," Michiru said, a cynical smile spreading on her skeptical face.

"I love the kid, but not THAT much," Haruka quipped. Then she laid out the brochure on the coffee table in front of Michiru, confident that the mere sight of it would convey the excitement Haruka felt. "Gorgeous, isn't it?"

"It's a car," Michiru sighed. She would indulge her mate on this subject, but only so far.

"It's not just 'a car'," Haruka responded, taking exception to the woman's lack of enthusiasm. "Some Honda off of the lot is 'a car'. This is a work of art. This is as beautiful a machine as I've ever seen!"

"How much?" Michiru asked pointedly.

"Just look at the design," marveled Haruka. "Just look at the lines, the wheel base, the body construction."

"How much?" Michiru repeated.

"She could probably do ninety in first gear," Haruka continued. "This is the pinnacle in state-of-the-art aerodynamic achievement!"

"Haruka," Michiru said, eyebrow raised.

Haruka sighed in frustration. "A hundred and forty-two," she said.

"Thousand?"

"Million."

"YEN?" choked Michiru.

"Michiru, I'm the defending points champion and I've got endorsements coming out of my ears," Haruka countered. "I got it covered."

"We could by an estate for that much!" Michiru wailed. "Five estates!"

"What's wrong with this place?" Haruka asked.

"You want to spend one hundred and forty-two MILLION YEN for A CAR?"

"Michiru," Haruka said, bristling, "this is a Lamborghini Reventon! There's only twenty of them in existence in the world!"

"This sales pitch sounds remarkably like the one you gave me when you wanted to buy the Fiat prototype," Michiru replied cooly. "Speaking of which, what were you planning on doing with the Fiat?"

"Why do anything?" Haruka shrugged.

"Because you can't drive them both at the same time," Michiru argued. "Because the upkeep on both, the insurance, the storage and maintenance expenses are cost-prohibitive, even for the defending points champion with endorsements coming out of her ears."

Haruka scowled.

"Haruka, we can't afford to tie up two hundred and fifty million yen, plus expenses, in two cars," Michiru told her, "no matter how rare they are."

Haruka just scowled.

"Don't give me that look!" Michiru fumed. "We can't do it, Haruka! We can't keep both cars!"

"All right!" Haruka fussed, conceding grudgingly. "If I get rid of the Fiat, will that be OK?"

"If your heart is set on getting this Lamborghini, I suppose," Michiru sighed. She grasped Haruka's hand. "I wish your taste in toys was a little less expensive, though."

"I hear you call that Lamborghini a 'toy' one more time and I'm going to spank you," Haruka warned playfully. Michiru gave her an equally playful silent challenge.

"What do you suppose the resale value is on the Fiat?" Michiru inquired. "It's rarity has to counterbalance the fact that it has mileage on it."

"That Fiat purrs like it just came from the factory," Haruka replied. "But I've got a better idea. Junko's been wanting a car for a while now. Why don't I give the Fiat to her?"

Michiru's reaction was not what Haruka expected.

* * *

><p>"My estimation of what happened is Severe Cerebral Hypoxia," Ami stated. She was sitting on the desk in the examination room. Mamoru was off the floor and sitting on the exam table while Usagi hovered behind him, her arms draped over his shoulders.<p>

"Is that bad? Is he going to die?" Usagi squeaked fearfully. Mamoru reached up and closed his hand around hers.

"Cerebral Hypoxia is a loss of consciousness induced by interrupted flow of oxygen to the brain, Usagi," Ami explained. "While it can be quite serious, in this case it was temporary and seems to have done no permanent damage."

"But why Cerebral Hypoxia?" Mamoru debated.

"You say the last think you remember is flashing back to the auto accident that killed your parents," Ami analyzed. "A memory of penetrating a guard rail and pitching over an embankment is undoubtedly very traumatic and could naturally induce an adrenal reaction severe enough to induce shock and subsequently Cerebral Hypoxia - - particularly if you weren't expecting to recall those events."

"So it could happen again?" Mamoru frowned.

"If something spurs an unexpected recall of that event," Ami hesitated, "perhaps. I don't think it likely."

"Ami," Mamoru began introspectively, "what if I wasn't reacting to the crash itself? What if the new part of that memory is what triggered it? What if it was a reaction to the fear my parents were showing before we got into the car? Could I be repressing something even more traumatic than the crash?"

"It's entirely possible," Ami nodded, pondering the new context.

"If only I could get at those memories," Mamoru sighed in frustration. "But that part of my mind has been closed off from me for so long."

He just sat there in frustration while Usagi and Ami looked on with concern.

"Maybe I should try hypnosis," Mamoru suggested to no one in particular. "The government psychologist who treated me later either didn't think of it or didn't believe in it. And after a while, I just accepted the fact that I wouldn't recall those days." He glanced at Ami. "I don't suppose you're an expert on hypnosis, too?"

"I," Ami hesitated awkwardly, "could become one very easily."

"You're not going to do it tonight, are you?" gasped Usagi.

Ami chuckled. "I'm not THAT fast a learner, Usagi. Besides, given all that Mamoru has been through today, giving him time to rest would only improve the odds of hypnosis actually working."

"Good, then it's settled. Let's go home, Mamo-Chan," Usagi proclaimed. "You need to rest and I'll make sure you do it."

"I still have to finish up here," protested Mamoru.

"NOW, MAMO-CHAN!" Usagi demanded, punching him in the shoulder with her dainty fist. Her mouth was pulled small into a scowl. Mamoru flashed Ami a grin.

"My master's voice," he chuckled and eased himself off of the exam table.

"I'll finish up here," Ami told him. "You go home and try to get some rest."

On the street, Usagi and Mamoru headed to their apartment on foot. Since Usagi had begun picking him up, Mamoru walked to work rather than drove. The apartment was close enough and it usually involved stopping for take-out anyway. The pair walked arm in arm down the still bustling Tokyo street.

"So, what are you in the mood for tonight?" Mamoru asked.

"I don't care," Usagi replied. "Mamo-Chan, will that hypnosis really help you?"

"It could."

"It's not going to make you think you're a duck, is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"No," Mamoru chuckled. "But it could get me to remember that time. Did you know my mother had short brown hair and brown eyes?"

"No," Usagi said.

"Neither did I until today," Mamoru continued hoarsely. Usagi squeezed in tighter. "I'm kind of afraid of what I'll remember. If I have been repressing it for this long, it can't be anything good."

They walked on.

"But I want to know," Mamoru stated. "There's too much missing from my life. Some of it HAS to be good. If I've got to take some bad with that, it's something I'm willing to face."

They walked on.

"I wish I could have met your mother," Usagi offered, "and your father."

"So do I," Mamoru said. Then he brightened a bit. "I really think they would have liked you."

"I'm going to start crying, I just know it," whimpered Usagi. Mamoru clutched her more tightly and they continued home.

* * *

><p>Rei sat in her living quarters, pondering. Akira-Sensei had gone home for the night and the chill of late January meant the grounds were clear of worshipers. A single light illuminated the sparse living room. There was a table in the center of the room. Book shelves lined two walls. A desk with the computer Ami had given her years ago sat in one corner.<p>

At the table, Rei knelt with a pen in her hand, a blank sheet of paper before her and Derek's letter off to her left. Twenty minutes had passed and she hadn't written a word.

"I have to make a decision," Rei told herself. "Derek can't keep holding up his signing with a team much longer. It's already late January. Training camp starts in a month. But I just don't know what to do."

The priest thought back to a scene in the San Francisco airport. She'd told him that she couldn't love a man she couldn't trust.

"No," Rei murmured. "I wouldn't permit myself to love someone I couldn't trust. That's probably closer to what I meant. Funny how self-defeating that seems now."

The pen poised to write. It hovered over the page, then pulled back.

"But do you truly stand for an idea if you're willing to compromise it the moment it becomes convenient to do so?" Rei wondered. "Right and wrong aren't concepts that should be malleable to fit convenience."

Then she remembered Derek's final words: How one day he might just show up at the shrine and Rei would find that the events that pushed them apart weren't as important as they had been.

"Time grants us the capacity to forgive," Rei mumbled. "Grandpa used to tell me that. I never believed him. I never understood how the passage of time could make an unforgivable crime forgivable. Is it wisdom to do that - - or is it weakness?"

Sighing loudly, Rei put her head in her hands and propped her elbows up on the table.

"I don't know what to do, Mother," she said hoarsely. "Please share your wisdom with me. Give me a sign if you can."

Rei sat there for the longest time. Then, resolutely, she picked up the pen and began writing.

"Yomiyuri is the better option for Derek," Rei said out loud as she wrote. "It's more money, more high-profile - - and I think it's what he wants to do." She finished the letter and put her pen down across it. "Even if I still can't forgive him, it's the better option for him. And if I can," and she smiled timidly to herself, "then it's even better for him."

Continued in Chapter 3


	3. A Right Way And A Wrong Way

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 3: "A Right Way And A Wrong Way"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>"Haruka," Michiru began, choosing her words carefully, "maybe that's not such a good idea."<p>

Haruka Tenoh reacted with surprise. All she had suggested was giving the Fiat prototype sports car she now owned to her sister, Junko, in order to buy the Lambourghini Reventon she wanted.

"Why not?" Haruka inquired. "Bigger sisters pass down things to little sisters all the time. You don't think she'll be insulted, do you?"

"SHE probably won't," Michiru replied. A scowl grew on Haruka's face.

"But her Mom and Dad probably will," Haruka finished the thought.

"You're more famous and more successful than they are," Michiru explained. "They could see it as you rubbing their nose in your success."

"Let them," grunted Haruka.

"Or they could see it as you trying to lure Junko into 'our lifestyle' with expensive gifts."

"They're going to think that no matter what," Haruka shrugged sullenly.

"And . . ."

"Michiru, I don't care!" snapped Haruka. "I stopped caring what they think! I stopped a long time ago!"

"If you'll let me finish," Michiru persisted. "I was going to question the wisdom of giving an eight hundred thousand yen sports car to an eighteen year old girl in the first place."

"You don't think she could handle it?"

"I don't know a lot of eighteen year olds who could," Michiru advised. "I don't know a lot of PEOPLE who could."

"But she's a smart kid, Michiru," Haruka argued. And Michiru saw the passion Haruka had behind her argument, the same passion she always had when she was defending something she really believed in. "She's really grounded and really knows her stuff. She doesn't do drugs or sleep around. She's getting really good grades. You know she's going to be top ten in her class? Hell, she figured out I was Sailor Uranus all on her own and kept it a secret because she knew how important it was to do that." Haruka thought for a moment. "I think she can handle it."

"All right," Michiru nodded. "If you think so. But that still leaves your parents."

"Screw my parents," Haruka sneered.

"Well that's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to live with them. Junko is," Michiru advised her. "Haruka, there's no sense courting trouble. Before you offer the car to Junko, maybe you should discuss the matter with your parents first. If you just hand over the car without talking it over with them, it could cause a lot of trouble, for you and for them, and especially for Junko. And I don't think you want that. Discussing it with them gives them the chance to agree. If they don't, at least they won't be surprised when you give the car to her anyway."

Haruka smiled. "You think you know me so well." The lanky blonde let out a tired sigh. "All right, I'll try it. But I can tell you right now, Mom'll be dead set against it from the start, and Dad will give me five thousand reasons why it's a bad idea. And I don't really feel like fighting with them."

"You may be right, Haruka," Michiru advised her. "But there's a right way and a wrong way to do things. You might as well try the right way. That way, at least it'll be their fault if this blows up."

* * *

><p>In a recording studio in Tokyo, the audio production crew set about their tasks of preparing to record. In a corner of the control room, Minako Aino stood with her producer. The producer was reading a lyric sheet while Minako waited for his approval. The crew had noticed the usually ebullient idol was very subdued today. Given the controversy that had swirled around her the past three or four months over her affair with Saijou Takeda and the subsequent breakup of her marriage to Toshihiro Manabe, it was little wonder that she was subdued. A few of the crew were amazed that she had even chosen to show herself in public.<p>

"You wrote this?" Minako's producer, Jiro Yokosuna asked.

"Yeah," Minako replied. "I've kind of had a little time to myself the last two months."

"Yeah, I think I heard something about that," commented the producer. He was just past fifty and had been in the music business for thirty years. He knew what sold, he knew what was good and he knew the difference between the two. Minako's last two albums had been top sellers and industry insiders knew it was as much to Yokosuna's credit as it was to Minako's voice, beauty and visibility.

"I'm not surprised. It was in all the papers," Minako quipped back. Yokosuna couldn't help noticing that there was a distance to his singer. The old Minako was there, but she was cloaked in a somber coat of guilt and loss, struggling to get out.

"'I Dumped A Good Man For You'," Yokosuna read the title on the lyric sheet. "I wonder what this is about."

"If you don't like the title, you can change it," Minako offered somberly. "But I'd really like you to find someone to put that to music. I want that to be on the album."

Yokosuna read the lyrics. "Torch ballads aren't exactly your style."

"I'm game to try to expand my range," Minako countered.

"Yeah, you never were afraid to experiment," Yokosuna offered.

"You can put four or five pop songs on the album for my core audience," Minako suggested. "I'll do my best on them."

"Something like this is going to stick out in the middle of a bunch of pop tunes," the producer warned her. "And given your recent history, everybody's going to know who this song is aimed at."

"I don't care who knows," Minako bristled. "There's only two people in this universe who I care knows who this song is about. Everybody else is free to think what they like." She could see her producer was still hesitant. "Look, I'm not asking you to release this as the first single off of the album. But I want this song on the album. Come on, I haven't made unreasonable requests before, have I?"

Yokosuna just stared at her.

"Well, I always came through when you gave them to me, didn't I?" Minako wailed. "Come on, it's one song out of twelve!"

Yokosuna sighed. "OK, I'll get someone to put this to music. Then we'll see how it sounds." He looked Minako squarely in the eye. "You know, you may not be able to pull this song off. It may be too personal."

"I'll pull it off," Minako assured him. "Besides, this is just one more way of getting my side of this out to the public. I've got to do it."

"Yokosuna-Sama," the mixer board engineer spoke up. "The crew's ready."

"OK," he said, then turned to Minako. "You ready to do some takes on that material I already gave you?"

"Sure," Minako replied, putting up a brave front.

"I know it may be difficult for you to do upbeat stuff right now," he advised her. "If you don't think you're up to it, let me know now so I don't waste studio time."

"I'll do it," Minako stated. "I'll just think about my last concert audience and not - - certain people."

With Minako safely in the recording booth, Yokosuna signaled the studio musicians. They began playing an upbeat dance tune that Yokosuna hoped to place in the clubs. With any luck, it would catch on from there and gain enough momentum to garner some radio play. The key was whether Minako could infuse the song with the same bouncy fun that had been the signature of all of her hits.

Minako's voice picked up the beat and she launched into the song. Yokosuna smiled. It was so nice working with a professional.

* * *

><p>Usagi sat at the breakfast table in her robe, hair unkempt. She was trying to stare at her breakfast without opening her eyes. Mamoru sat across from her, finishing up his breakfast and smirking at Usagi. Even after all these years, he still found his wife's zombie-like state in the morning funny. Luna, however, thought it not funny in the least and glared at the woman. Fortunately for Usagi, her eyes were closed and she couldn't see the cat's ire.<p>

"Usako," Mamoru leaned over and cooed softly. "Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Just five more minutes, Mom," Usagi mumbled softly.

Getting up, Mamoru walked around and came up behind his wife. She was still teetering between sleep and consciousness and didn't notice he was behind her. Reaching down, he began tickling her ribs.

"KI-YA!" Usagi shrieked, jumping up from her chair. Her head slammed into Mamoru's jaw, thrusting her back down into the chair and sending him staggering backward. Mamoru steadied himself against the stove while Usagi, wide-eyed and awake now, looked around for the demon that had just tried to molest her.

"Disgusting," muttered Luna and leaped off the table.

"Mamo-Chan!" Usagi wailed. "You're not supposed to do that to the dead!"

"Extreme cases call for extreme measures," he replied, rubbing his jaw. "Now eat up. I've got to go to work soon and YOU need to finish that page."

"Oh, and I've got that meeting today with my editor," Usagi recalled, suddenly trying to talk and eat at the same time. "Heesh gonga loog ab my schtoli gen."

"Swallow and then talk," Mamoru advised her. Usagi wrinkled her nose at him, but complied.

"You're so smart, you should be able to understand it," she pouted. "My editor is going to look at Fire Princess Rika again. I hope the corrections I did were enough to sell it."

"I have faith in you," Mamoru said, gathering up his plate and washing it in the sink.

"I'm glad one of us does," Usagi scowled. Then her mind wandered, as it often did, to other things. "Have you had anymore memories about your parents?"

"No," Mamoru frowned. "It's like before: Whenever I try to remember those times, it's like hitting a wall."

"But you remembered that incident before," Usagi said.

"Because that patient did something that triggered the memory," Mamoru explained. "I think I'm going to need more triggers like that to establish the neural pathways back to those memories again." He pulled his suit jacket on. "Or else let Ami hypnotize me."

"Do you think that will help?"

"It might be the only way to get past that wall my mind has built around those memories," Mamoru concluded. "I'm certainly game. And if she can't do it, I can always go to a professional."

"I think Ami should do it," Usagi said. Then she smiled devilishly. "Because then when you're under, I'll tell you to let me spend more."

"Sorry, Usako, but hypnosis can't make you do what you wouldn't do when you're conscious," he said and bent in to kiss her.

"Rats," she said after he kissed her.

Mamoru went to straighten up, but Usagi suddenly pulled him back and kissed him again. It was longer and more passionate. When they finally parted, Mamoru looked at her.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"I was hoping maybe it would stimulate a memory," Usagi offered. Mamoru smiled.

"Well, it definitely stimulated something," he replied. "But I've got to go to work." Usagi giggled.

After he left, Luna entered the kitchen again.

"Usagi," the cat began, "Artemis and I could delve into the history of Mamoru and his parents with our computer system. Perhaps we could find some name or place or bit of trivia that might stimulate some part of his memory."

"Would you?" Usagi beamed. "Oh, thank you, Luna!"

"Consider it done, Usagi," Luna smiled. Then she grew a stern face that was only partially playful. "Now clean up your plate and get to work."

"Yesssss, Lunaaaaaaaaaaaa," huffed Usagi.

* * *

><p>Haruka sauntered up to the front door. There was a moment when she experienced a hint of trepidation, even after all these years. But she forced it down and hit the buzzer.<p>

The call had been bad enough. Her father almost hung up on her, but she managed to get Junko's name out before he could. That caught his attention. From there, she explained that she needed to discuss something with Gert and Himeko concerning Junko, but that it might be better if Junko weren't around. Reluctantly Gert agreed to meet with her during the day when Junko was in school. That had been Tuesday. It was Friday now and Haruka was steeling herself to face the open disgust and disappointment that would characterize her parents' demeanor.

Himeko answered the door. Her initial reaction wasn't a surprise. Gert at least treated her like a human being, though one who had committed an unpardonable sin. Himeko always looked on Haruka with contempt and naked loathing. She didn't even see Haruka as human, let alone her own child. Haruka could see she wanted to spit at her and slam the door in her face. But, after a pregnant hesitation, Himeko opened the door and silently gestured Haruka in. The 2005 Fiat-Mazel Prototype was parked on the street and it was already drawing interest from the neighbors.

Gert was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. He seemed to look older every time Haruka saw him. In spite of his efforts to keep his weight down and exercise, his heart surgery had weakened him. He wasn't frail, but he was no longer robust either. His blonde hair was thinner and his ruddy Prussian skin was losing some of its redness. Gert glanced up at her as she entered and Haruka detected for a moment a look in his eyes that seemed to wonder what might have been.

"I thought drinking that stuff wasn't good for you," Haruka said, nodding at the cup.

"NOW she thinks about my welfare," Gert snorted softly.

"Right," Haruka sighed. She took a seat at the table. Himeko sat across from her and next to Gert. No refreshments were offered. "Well, let's get down to it. Junko's going to be graduating soon and she's been giving off hints that a car would be a really nice graduation present."

"She's," Gert began awkwardly, "'hinted' as much to me. It's not a bad idea. She's a good girl." He glanced at Haruka. "I suppose you want to chip in."

"I was thinking of something that could save you some money," Haruka explained. "I'm buying a new car for myself. I was thinking maybe Junko could have my old one. It runs great and it doesn't have too many miles . . ."

"Absolutely not!" Himeko snapped, her eyes flaring angrily.

"Why? Are you afraid she'll get 'gay-cooties' off of it or something?" Haruka sneered.

"I know what you're trying to do!" Himeko snarled. "This is just one more way for you to try to lure her into your corrupt . . .!"

"Mama," Gert frowned, putting his hand over hers. Himeko quieted, but she gave her husband a look that told Haruka this was a sore spot between them. "I'm assuming you meant well, Haruka, because of your fondness for . . ." And he stopped for a moment. "You're not talking about that sports car that's out front, are you?"

"Yeah," Haruka replied. "In spite of what the papers say, I only own the one car. But I've taken real good care of it . . ."

"That expensive sports car? You're going to give that to an eighteen year old girl? Mein Gott! Haruka, where is your mind?"

"She can handle it," Haruka replied defensively. "She's smarter than you give her credit for."

"That's not the question!" Gert gasped. "She's eighteen! She hasn't even got a job! She may be starting college in the fall, God willing! How is she going to afford the insurance on an expensive car like that? How is she going to afford the maintenance? Where is she going to store it? She can't park it on the street! It will be stripped the first night!"

Haruka burned silently. It was bad enough Gert had to talk to her like she was five again. But everything he said made sense and that angered her even more.

"I can help her out with that," Haruka tried to argue.

"And what about the idea of a pretty young girl driving around in an expensive sports car?" Gert continued. "Don't you think that will attract unwanted attention to her? Don't you think people will see that and their first thought will be 'here's a wealthy young girl in a nice car, maybe I should try to feather my nest at her expense'? And someone will attack her for her car and maybe for the money he thinks she has." Gert rubbed his temple.

"Gert, your blood pressure," Himeko warned him.

"Honestly, Haruka, why don't you just paint a target on her back?" Gert persisted.

"ALL RIGHT!" bellowed Haruka, shooting up out of the chair so violently that the chair toppled over. "I get it! You don't have to keep beating me over the head with it!"

She turned and stormed for the door.

"I just wanted to do something nice for her. Thanks for giving me the courtesy of hearing me out," she grumbled. The door slammed on the way out. Gert and Himeko stared after her, their disappointment in her unconcealed.

Continued in Chapter 4


	4. A Venture Into The Past

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 4: "A Venture Into The Past"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>At the doctor's office he shared, Mamoru entered for the day's work. As usual, Ami was there preparing for the day. She was always the first one there. It had taken Chiyo, their new receptionist, several weeks to get used to the always punctual and hyper-efficient Ami Mizuno. At one point, Mamoru had overheard the woman talking with a friend over the phone, wondering if Ami were actually a machine.<p>

"Good morning Mamoru," Ami said pleasantly. Mamoru also got the impression that Ami was phenomenally grateful for his bringing her into partnership with him. It led him to wonder how much Ami had hated life at the hospital.

"Good morning, Ami," Mamoru nodded. "Usagi says 'hi'."

"Have you had any further memory recurrences?"

"No. Nothing more has come. It even took me a few minutes to remember that my father's name was Hotaro for Luna's computer inquiry."

"Dizzy spells? Blackouts? Fainting?"

"No, no and no," Mamoru sighed. He didn't like talking about that recurrent part of his life. "So, are you a trained hypnotist yet?"

Ami grimaced. "I've come to the conclusion that hypnotic memory regression wouldn't be a practical solution."

"How so?"

"Study results are too inconclusive concerning the therapy's effectiveness," Ami outlined. "And the danger of implanting false memories is too great."

"Well, thank you for looking into it just the same," Mamoru replied. He tried to put up a brave front, but Ami could see the news was a disappointment.

"Please don't give up, Mamoru," Ami encouraged him. "There are other means of restoring these memories. The fact that a random act triggered one memory would indicate that others can be triggered in the same manner."

"But what's the trigger?"

"Memory association differs from person to person and from memory to memory," Ami replied. "It would be statistically improbable to guess what the specific trigger is for particular memories." She thought for a moment. "I would suggest that you return to familiar surroundings linked to the time you're trying to recall. The familiarity of a neighborhood, a house, or a yard might be the trigger you're looking for."

"To do that, I'd have to remember where I lived as a boy," Mamoru sighed. Ami came over.

"You may also have to accept that these memories are gone forever," she warned him. "Many memories from newborn to approximately four or five years fade over time. Nearly all memories prior to age three disappear, probably written over by the brain. What you're seeking to recall may no longer be there."

"But I remember the crash as clear as day," Mamoru replied. "Going over the embankment, the front seat rushing up and slamming me in the head as the car crumpled on impact. The heat of the fire."

Suddenly he stopped. Ami looked at him curiously.

"Have you recalled something else?" Ami asked him.

"No," Mamoru replied, distracted. "But I just realized something. The EMT's said I was thrown clear of the crash. But I remember being belted into the back seat - - the front seat pushed up against the bottom of my feet."

"Someone else was there," Ami deduced. "They clearly pulled you from the car and then fled."

* * *

><p>The middle school athletic field was filled with young men and women heading outside on lunch break. It didn't matter that it was January and cold. Anything was better than the prison of middle school. Outside the halls of learning, they could be free to be themselves. As much, of course, as their matching uniforms and the watchful supervision of the faculty allowed.<p>

After a time, the students began to collect more and more at the chain link fence separating the school grounds from the track and field oval. A buzz of excitement had passed through the aimless students, attracting them to the track like iron filings to a magnet.

"Look at him go," marveled one boy.

"He's fast," another judged. "Faster than Ikuro."

"What's he doing here?" a third wondered.

The growing crowd had begun to pair off into the usual cliques, boys with boys and girls with girls.

"He's so handsome," whispered one girl.

"Look at his focus," another judged. "He's so intense."

"I wonder who he is?" a third wondered.

Nobody recognized the adult running around the track in a nondescript blue nylon track suit. They hadn't seen the running style, so athletic and vibrant. They didn't place the ease of motion demonstrated, nor could they acknowledge the practiced stride or the experienced movement. The cold January air blew sandy blonde hair across deep blue eyes focused on a goal none of them could see. The boys could only aspire to be like this superior athlete. The girls could only dream of touching this Earth-bound Hermes.

"Hey!" one late-comer to the throng exclaimed. "That's Haruka Tenoh! The race car driver!" A collective gasp of surprise rose up from the assembled.

Haruka heard none of it. She was intent upon one thing, focused solely on the finish line. Her thoughts were calculations of when to turn, how fast to go, how long to pace. Her focus was coaxing every last ounce of performance from her body, for she had the need. Running solved that need, as did racing. That need to get somewhere as fast as possible, for that anonymous somewhere had to be better than where she was.

Her final kick shot Haruka toward the finish line. Instinctively she leaned forward, as she had so many times during her younger days, leaning forward to steal a fraction of a second and take the tape. She eased to a stop on the asphalt and cinder track, her thighs burning and her lungs knifed from the cold air. And she heard applause. Turning quizzically, Haruka found several dozen middle school students watching on the other side of the fence, applauding her efforts. Ill at ease, Haruka waved at them, then hastily headed for the exit. It was time to head home. She wanted to run more, to erase more of the bad memories of her latest confrontation with her parents. But Haruka had learned years ago not to push her finely crafted instrument too far, lest she go beyond its physical limits and break down.

When she was out of sight, the students began to head back to class. They buzzed among themselves, still marveling at Haruka's prowess on the track or over how her perfect form would be in more than one dream this night. And in the mind of one anonymous girl, tormented by feelings and desires she didn't understand and couldn't make conform to the social norm, Haruka became a symbol of there being light at the end of the tunnel.

* * *

><p>Rei sat at her computer, a cup of tea in one hand, surveying the news. She had long since conceded that news sites on the internet were just as convenient as an actual printed newspaper. Even more convenient, since she didn't have to go out and buy one. And she had long since gotten over the embarrassment of Akira-Sensei telling her that there were actually sites on the internet for something other than children's games and pornography. Sometimes being traditional was a source of embarrassment, though the positives outweighed the negatives in her mind.<p>

To her surprise, a sports story was among the items on the front page.

"Derek Johnson, former outfielder with the Yomiyuri Giants," she read, "has resigned with the club and will be in uniform for the 2010 season. Johnson-San, leading hitter on the 2006 Championship Giants team, states he is happy to return and will work hard to bring another championship to the loyal Yomiyuri fans."

"So he's actually coming over," Rei mused. Then her nerves began to tighten through her body. "What if he visits the shrine? What will I say to him? Have I found it in my heart to forgive him?"

The memory was still as clear as day to her. Standing in the hall of the hotel outside of Derek's room, wanting to surprise him. The joy she felt seeing him open the door, only to have it erupt in smoke and flame when she read him and realized that he had another woman in the room. The anger had long since dissipated, but the hurt remained.

"Maybe he won't visit," Rei said, almost as a prayer to the gods as anything.

* * *

><p>Mamoru came home to find Usagi sitting at the kitchen table, peering over Luna's shoulder. Luna was at her laptop, looking at a file being downloaded from Artemis. He came over and kissed Usagi on the cheek.<p>

"Welcome home, Mamo-Chan," she mumbled, staring intently at the screen.

"When you didn't pick me up, I wondered if something had happened here," Mamoru told her.

"I'm sorry for not picking you up, Mamo-Chan," Usagi said, distracted. Mamoru gazed at the screen. It was a historical profile of someone.

"That's all right," he said, patting her shoulder. "Deadlines done for today?"

"Yes."

"Dinner?"

"Staying warm in the oven."

"I'm impressed," he remarked. "What's so important on the computer screen?"

Luna answered before Usagi could. "It's a compilation of all the information Artemis and I were able to gather on your father and mother. It will take a few more minutes to download. Please be patient, Mamoru."

"Well thank you in advance, Luna," Mamoru told her. "You didn't happen to run across any pictures, did you?"

"That's part of what's taking so long to download," Luna answered.

Mamoru nodded. "So, heard anything from your publisher yet, Usako?"

Usagi deflated. "Today. They still don't want to publish it." She flopped back on her chair. "Maybe I should just shelve it and try something else. Vampires are popular. Maybe I should do a vampire story."

"Yes, and I can see you giving yourself nightmares, too," Mamoru chuckled.

"Or I could do a magical girl manga," Usagi proposed. "She stumbles onto a magical girl academy where she makes a lot of friends and they have to defend the academy against renegade magical girls led by a wicked queen."

"And what were you going to call this magical girl?" Luna asked as she watched the download. "Harriette Potter?" Usagi glared into the back of Luna's head.

"Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with them not liking 'Fire Princess Rika'," Mamoru suggested. "Maybe they just don't want to lose you off of the manga you're doing now."

"Yes, Usagi, perhaps you're more valuable where you are now," Luna echoed the sentiment, "and they'll be more receptive to your new story once this one is finished."

"You think?" Usagi asked. "It's not because I have no talent?"

"Anybody who says you have no talent will have to deal with me," Mamoru told her, his hands on her shoulders. Usagi bowed her head to hide her smile.

"The download should be finished, Luna," Artemis said over their real-time connection.

"Yes, I'm printing the photos now," Luna replied. "Thank you, Artemis. You've done your usual superior job."

Before Luna could get a look at them, Usagi snatched the pictures off of the printer. She gazed at them while Mamoru looked over her shoulder and Luna peered over her arm.

"They're driver's license photos, so the level of photography isn't perfect," the cat warned them.

"Oh, Mamo-Chan! Your Mom is so beautiful!" Usagi marveled. "And you've got her eyes!"

"And your father's jaw line," Luna remarked. "There's little doubt they're your parents. The resemblance is proof enough."

"I know they're my parents," Mamoru said softly, entranced by the photos. "I can remember them now."

"What do you remember?" Usagi asked him.

"Bits and pieces," Mamoru replied. "Eating with them at the dinner table. Sitting on the sofa between them." He dipped his head and smiled. "My mother scolding me because I'd pulled all of her flowers out of the flower bed so I could give her a bouquet. I remember I'd seen it on television and thought it was a way to make her feel better." His nostalgia dimmed. "Mom and Dad had just had a big fight."

"Over what?" Usagi inquired.

"I - - don't remember," Mamoru shook his head. "I hadn't even remembered this until now. I just know that Mom was upset - - and I just made it worse."

Mamoru felt Usagi's hand close around his.

"In certain respects, that's good news," Luna commented. "The sight of your parents' pictures has spurred another memory."

"Maybe visiting my old home would stimulate more recall," Mamoru nodded, "like Ami suggested. You and Artemis didn't happen to find the address, did you?"

"It should be on the driver's license," Luna replied. She began swiftly pawing at the keys on her laptop. "Here it is. It's not far from Azabu-Juuban."

"Let's go then!" Usagi squealed, jumping to her feet.

"Shouldn't we have dinner first?" Luna suggested. "It will be quite spoiled if you leave it in the oven too long. And I sincerely doubt that Mamoru's old home will sprout legs and walk away anytime soon."

Usagi scowled. She looked to Mamoru for confirmation. He nodded.

"Well, you never know," Usagi huffed, grabbing the pot holders.

After dinner, Mamoru packed Usagi and Luna into the car and drove off for the address Luna had listed as the last known address of Hotaro and Mio Chiba. The neighborhood was in one of the older sections of the prefect. The houses were well-to-do, solidly Japanese middle class, and yet they were packed together to maximize occupancy in a minimal space, much like so many prefects in Tokyo were packed. The houses were so dense that it was hard for Mamoru to find a place to park. Finally he found a space down the block. Together he and Usagi, with Luna draped over her shoulder, walked back to the house.

As they walked, Usagi kept watch on Mamoru's expression the entire way. She noted the hint of recognition in his eyes. Her breast filled with hope. This was working. He remembered the neighborhood. Maybe he could remember more. So intent was she on watching the flickering of memories pass over her husband's face that she tripped over a paving stone and staggered forward.

"Usagi, is multi-tasking really THAT difficult for you?" Luna said sourly, her claws hooked into Usagi's blouse to keep from being spilled into the street.

"Mamo-Chan?" Usagi asked, ignoring Luna. Mamoru was at the gate of the house, looking up at it in the dying light of sunset. "Do you remember it?"

"Yes," Mamoru whispered. "I was - - six years old the last time I was here. I used to play with the boy two houses down. What was his name? Junichi," and he frowned, "Junichi something. He had a sister. She always wanted to tag along with us and Junichi-kun would always bark at her to stay home." He looked up at the house again. "Mom was always cooking or cleaning - - or chasing after me. She hated cooking, but she did it so well. She made a broiled cod that was just so good."

"Why didn't she like to cook if she was so good at it?" Usagi inquired.

Mamoru frowned. "I don't know. There were a lot of things about my parents that I didn't understand at that age. There are things I can't remember, too. I'm pretty sure she loved Dad - - and me - - but I'm not sure she loved where her life had ended up."

"Mamoru," Luna asked surreptitiously, "do you recall anything about the night of the accident?"

"The car was parked here," Mamoru said, his brow furrowed, "behind where we're standing. Dad was in a hurry. He was scared - - very scared. Mom asked him what was wrong. He told her," and the strain became evident on the young man's face, "I don't remember what he told her. But she got scared, too. He went to get the car started. I asked her what was happening. Mom knelt down and stroked my hair and caressed my cheek. She said - - we had to go on a trip - - and I had to hurry."

Mamoru seemed to buckle slightly. Usagi emitted a surprised squeal and held him up until he could get his legs back under him.

"Mamo-Chan?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm OK, Usako," he wheezed. "Remembering that still seems to be pretty traumatic."

Just then an elderly woman peered out of the gate of the house next door.

"Looking for the Kurogama's?" she inquired.

"No," Usagi answered as she supported Mamoru. "My husband used to live in this house and he just wanted to look at it again."

"Really? I don't remember anyone like . . ." she began. Then she squinted at Mamoru. "You're not the Chiba boy, are you?"

"Yes!" Usagi squealed. "Do you remember him?"

"I should say so," chuckled the old woman. "Why you and that Junichi Mizahara must have run up and down these streets ten thousand times with your soccer ball." Her face took on a nostalgic glow. "Your parents were such a nice couple. It's such a shame what happened to them."

"Do you remember what happened?" Usagi asked.

"Only what I heard," the old woman answered, "that they went off an embankment. And you all alone, Mamoru-kun. It must have been so terrible for you."

For a moment, the old woman thought she saw the cat perched on the blonde woman's shoulder whisper something into her ear. Then she dismissed it as a trick of the fading light.

"Do you remember what happened to all of the Chiba's belongings?" Usagi asked.

"They were taken away," she responded. "The man from Chiba-San's place of business had the belongings all taken away after the house was sold. I don't know what happened to them. I think he worked for Tezawa-San."

Mamoru stiffened at the mention of the word. Usagi and Luna noticed instantly.

"Well, thank you for the information," Mamoru told the old woman. "And it's been nice seeing you again, Oba-San."

"Do you remember me?" she asked, her face lighting up joyously.

"I think I do," Mamoru replied.

Back in the car, Mamoru sat at the steering wheel. He didn't engage the ignition.

"Did you remember something, Mamoru?" Luna asked. "About that night, perhaps?"

"Yes," Mamoru said. He was ill-at-ease, causing Usagi to stare at him petrified. "I remember what Dad said to Mom." Mamoru swallowed. "He said 'He's dead. I killed him'."

Continued in Chapter 5


	5. Present Tense

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 5: "Present Tense"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>"I was in the district, meeting with a theatrical agent," Michiru explained. She sat across the desk from Kunihiko Kaioh, her father and the owner of the biggest fish cannery in Japan. "Since I was close, I thought I'd stop by and visit."<p>

She glanced at her father. Kunihiko Kaioh was approaching sixty, but had lost little of his vigor. He still was lean and fit, built like a whip and capable of stinging like one. The man's gaze was sharp and saw everything. His eyes held you, challenging you to take him lightly. The merest hint of a wicked smile crossed Michiru's lips.

"I apologize for not scheduling ahead," she jabbed. Her father could still be an intimidating figure in her life, but since she was sixteen Michiru had gained enough confidence in herself to challenge his authority over her - - playfully.

"That's all right," Kunihiko answered in good humor. "I've always got time for my lovely daughter." He gave her a wicked glance in return. "But at least call ahead next time. It's only good manners."

Their joust finished, Michiru eased back comfortably. In reflection, their relationship had come a long way from the days when she was thirteen and alone because her father was too busy being a tycoon to be a father and her mother was too busy being a flighty jet-setter to be her mother. These jabs gave her some small control over him. Kunihiko was, far too late, desirous of making up for the years with her he'd missed. Michiru was grateful for the attention, but used the jabs to establish that things were on her terms.

"Were you planning on touring again?" her father asked.

"No. I was just getting a final accounting of how the tour I just finished did," Michiru explained. "Besides, Haruka's racing season is coming up and I won't tour without her." A grin sprouted on her mouth, this one far more sentimental. "In fact, I was thinking of accompanying her on tour this year."

"Not a bad idea," nodded Kunihiko. "Anything that can allow you to spend time with loved ones seems like a fine idea to me." He shifted uncomfortably. "Speaking of that, have you heard that your mother and I are thinking about remarrying?"

"Yes, she told me about it," Michiru replied. She thought a moment. "Are you both sure about this?"

"I thought you'd be happy," her father remarked in surprise.

"Believe me, I'd love to see you two back together. Mom has really grown up the last few years."

"But?" he asked.

"I guess," Michiru said hesitantly, "I'm afraid of the same - - incompatibilities - - that pushed you two apart the first time rising up and interfering again. And I really don't want to go through that again. And I don't want you to go through it. Or Mom either."

"Why do you think I waited as long as I have?" her father admitted. "I've - - tried to change. I realize that I've been too rigid in my life. It's what tore us apart the first time. Connie wasn't ready. She admits it. And I was too intent on her conforming to my beliefs. And I want to think I've changed. But have I?"

Michiru didn't respond, but her father was echoing many of the fears she had about him.

"But the alternative," he continued, "is a life that I'm finding is increasingly solitary. And it's a life that I don't really want. What are my choices: I could impose upon you and Haruka; I could easily find some young thing who would reluctantly agree to live with me in exchange for access to my money; or I could continue in this increasingly undesirable solitary existence."

He smiled at her and it was a smile that seemed desperate to court her acceptance.

"Or I could take a chance and try to recapture the times I had with the only woman I've ever loved," he suggested, "besides you." He exhaled and it seemed to shudder, and suddenly the imposing Kunihiko Kaioh seemed closer to a frail old man. "It's a gamble. We may end up hurting each other all over again. But I'd like to take it. It seems preferable to the other choices. And Connie is game. All we need is your blessing."

"Dad," Michiru replied incredulously, "you don't need my blessing. If you want to do it, do it. I just want you to be sure. Mom can be a bit of a whirlwind sometimes and a person can get caught up if they're not careful."

"She certainly can," Kunihiko smiled nostalgically. "We're sure, Michiru. But we didn't want to do it if it made you uneasy."

"Dad, you let me marry the woman of my dreams," Michiru grinned. "What kind of person would I be to stand in the way of your happiness. Honestly, I hope it works out this time. Mom and I have - - reached an accord, so don't let that stop you."

Her father was beaming at her. "I appreciate this, Michiru. And I'd like you to play at our wedding," then he smothered an ironic grin, "unless Connie decides she wants to elope again."

"That would be just like her," Michiru giggled.

* * *

><p>Still brooding over her experience with her parents, Haruka was out on the garage, under the hood of the Fiat Prototype. There wasn't anything wrong with the engine. It wasn't time for its maintenance check. It had demonstrated no sign of trouble when she drove it back from her parents' home.<p>

But cleaning the valves, checking the plugs, and wiping down the engine for dirt made her feel good. Few people understood that cars possessed souls. Even Michiru didn't understand. Cars weren't just conveyances. They were precision instruments and if you took care of one properly, it would give its life to you in loyalty and performance.

"Junko would have liked you," Haruka murmured to the car as she wiped dirt from the manifold. "And you would have liked Junko."

Her cell phone sounded. Wiping her hands, Haruka answered it by the fourth ring.

"Let me guess," she heard Junko say with a mocking tone. "You're in the garage again?"

"Kids today think they're so smart," Haruka grumbled a response. "How do you know?"

"It took you four rings to pick up. You had to wipe your hands first. So how are you doing, Haruka? It's been a while since I talked to you."

"Getting by," Haruka replied. "You calling from school?"

"Between periods," Junko told her. "You sound kind of down. You OK?"

"Don't mind me," Haruka said, trying to cover her mood. "How you coming in school? You pick a major for college yet?"

"Right, Haruka, I get the message," Junko said with practiced teenage patience. "Is it OK if I stop by tonight?"

Haruka paused. She didn't really want Junko around because Junko was too smart not to pick up on what had happened between her and their parents. But to say no would really get her suspicious.

"Don't you have any boys you want to visit with instead?" Haruka asked.

"He's got basketball practice tonight," Junko relayed. "I promise I won't stay too long. After all, I've got to maintain a good GPA or Dad will never let me hear the end of it."

"OK," Haruka told her. "I'll get Michiru to set an extra place for dinner. But tell the folks. I don't want them thinking you and I are sneaking around behind their backs. Mom will think I'm trying to seduce you."

"She'll think that anyway," Junko replied. "OK, I'll let them know. See you tonight."

Haruka closed the phone. She leaned against the Fiat.

"If it comes up, I'll tell her the truth," Haruka told herself. "I won't volunteer it, but I won't lie to cover for them."

Shoving up from the car, Haruka threw her rag onto a nearby table and gently put the hood down. She headed for the exit into the house.

"One of these days I've got to learn to just keep my big ideas to myself," the woman muttered to herself.

* * *

><p>Long after Michiru had left her father's office, Usagi and Mamoru returned to their apartment, followed by Luna. Flitting between their feet, Luna scampered across the room and bounded up onto the table, where she opened her laptop.<p>

"What are you doing?" Usagi asked. She was clinging to Mamoru in support of her husband ever since they all left his childhood home. Still stunned by the memory he'd recalled, Mamoru had been quiet the entire trip, which greatly concerned Usagi.

"I'm calling Artemis, of course," Luna replied incredulously.

"Why? Aren't you worried about Mamo-Chan?"

"So we can track down this Tezawa person that Mamoru's father allegedly killed," Luna said, trying to jog Usagi's memory. "Honestly, weren't you listening to a word I said in the car?"

"WELL I WAS WORRIED ABOUT MAMO-CHAN!" Usagi bellowed back.

"Yeah?" Artemis said, appearing on her notebook monitor. The white cat looked like he'd just awakened.

"Artemis, I have a name that needs to be tracked down and I need your help," Luna told him.

"Is it important?" Artemis asked groggily.

"OF COURSE IT'S IMPORTANT!" roared Luna. "You can sleep later, you lazy wretch!"

"Hey!" barked Minako, shoving into the picture. "Don't talk to Artemis like that! You don't know what all he's been doing today! You could be a little nicer, you know!"

"You've another project you're working on?" Luna inquired.

"No," Minako grimaced like someone caught in a trap, "he's been sleeping. BUT YOU WERE JUMPING HIM BASED ON AN ASSUMPTION!"

"Hmph," Luna scowled.

"Thanks for nothing, Minako," Artemis grumbled, shoving back into the picture. "What was the name?"

"Tezawa," Luna told him.

"Never mind," Mamoru spoke up and everybody looked over at him. Usagi still had her arms around him, but Mamoru had been leafing through the printout of his father's life. "It's right here. Dad worked for Tezawa Securities."

Minako whistled.

"That's one of the biggest investment houses in Japan," Luna remarked. "I'll look up the family clan and see if any of the family died suspiciously in 1982."

"So what's going on, Usagi?" Minako asked over the computer connection.

"Mamo-Chan's been remembering things from his childhood, Mina-Chan," Usagi related from several feet away, because she as yet refused to leave Mamoru's side. "We think the accident that killed them was because they were running away," and she glanced anxiously at Mamoru, "because - - his father killed someone."

"I could see why you wouldn't want to remember that," Minako replied soberly.

"According to this, Midoki Tezawa died in 1982 at age fifty-one," Luna reported.

"Midoki Tezawa was the head of Tezawa Securities!" Artemis gasped. "He inherited it from his father, who started it in the early fifties during the later stages of the Japanese rebuilding project."

"Odd," Luna remarked. "It says here that Tezawa died of undisclosed natural causes. I can't find anything about a murder investigation or even a hint of foul play. But he had to have been talking about Midoki Tezawa. Nobody else with that name died that year."

"Maybe your father was mistaken," Usagi offered to her husband.

"That doesn't change the fact that he died running for his life," Mamoru said grimly. "At least he thought he was. If it was a mistake, that makes their deaths even more useless." He turned to her. "And who pulled me out of the car?"

The room fell silent.

"I can stop by Superintendent Sakurada's office and ask her about it," Minako offered. "My morning recording session got canceled. Too bad, too. I was just beginning to really get into the album."

"You're recording, Mina-Chan?" Usagi asked hopefully.

"Got to do something besides live off of my senshi residuals," she heard Minako say from Luna's laptop. "It's either that or watch fuzzy here sleep all day."

"If you're done trashing my reputation," Artemis shot back, "I guess a trip through Tezawa Securities' financial records wouldn't hurt - - see if there are any irregularities. I'll start in '82." He grinned at the irony. "This is going to be dry work. Good thing I'm well-rested."

"Good-bye, Artemis," Luna said with the hint of a smile on her lips. She turned to Usagi and Mamoru. "Do you recall anything about your father's occupation, Mamoru?"

"No," he shook his head. "But I was six. I doubt I had any concept of what he did."

"Well don't worry about it anymore, Mamo-Chan, please," Usagi pleaded. "There's nothing more you can do tonight. Let's see what Artemis comes up with. And maybe you'll remember something else."

Mamoru nodded, but didn't reply. Usagi leaned in and hugged him, wishing she could wave her Moon Tier and make everything right.

* * *

><p>The doorbell rang. Haruka Tenoh looked up from the endorsement pitch her public relations company had presented her with. Glancing at her watch, the woman realized that it was after school and the visitor was probably Junko on her promised visit. She went to the door and opened it. Junko stood on the other side, dressed in jeans, a knit blouse and a pullover pink hoodie.<p>

"Aren't you freezing dressed like that?" Haruka asked, a question that almost sounded like a demand. Junko sauntered inside.

"You know, Mom said the same thing to me this morning," Junko shot back.

"Even Mom's right once in a while," Haruka retorted, an eyebrow cocked.

"It's a look, OK?" Junko grumbled. "Good to see you, too."

"Go on and sit down," Haruka smirked, then added wickedly, "I'll make you some HOT tea."

"I'd rather have a Diet Coke," Junko volleyed back, not backing down. She looked over the sketches and pictures on the kitchen table. "What's this?"

"And endorsement deal I got offered," Haruka told her, pulling two cans of fruit juice out of the refrigerator.

"You going to do it?" Junko asked, excited by the prospect.

"I don't know yet," Haruka shrugged. "They want me to be in a TV commercial."

"OH, YOU'VE GOT TO DO IT!" Junko gasped.

"Are you kidding?" Haruka asked skeptically. "Me on TV? I'm not exactly Minako Aino."

"So? You say the line, you hold up the product and smile," Junko began, then stopped. "Oh, yeah - - the smiling part. I forgot." Then she shot Haruka a devilish grin.

"Smart-ass kids," muttered Haruka. "So what did you come over here for, anyway? Or is this just an excuse not to do your homework?"

"Dad gave me a weird lecture this morning," Junko began, then rolled her eyes, "which isn't that odd for Dad, I admit. But he was going on and on about how terrible you were because you drove a showy, expensive car and how it made you even more unladylike and how I shouldn't even think about trying to emulate you because you were just a rebellious person who had to always be different and spend money on new cars just to show how different you were." Junko took a breath. "And stuff like that. I tuned out about half of it." The teen leaned in conspiratorially. "So are you buying a new car?"

"It's hard to believe those two are from this planet sometimes," Haruka scowled. She looked at Junko and knew that look. Her sister could be just as stubborn as she was and Haruka knew this wasn't a battle worth fighting. "Yeah, I'm buying a new car."

"WHAT'S IT LIKE?" gasped Junko. Haruka went into the other room and returned with a brochure folder.

"It's a Lamborghini Reventon," Haruka replied, showing her sister the picture from the brochure. The girl's eyes popped.

"Wow," she exclaimed softly. "I didn't think anything could top the Fiat." She looked up at Haruka. "How much is THIS ONE?"

"A hundred and forty-two million yen," Haruka answered, steeling herself for what now was a reaction she'd come to expect. Junko's eyes bulged.

"What did Michiru hit you with?" Junko chuckled. "So what happens to the Fiat?"

"I have to get rid of it," Haruka grimaced. "That was one of the conditions."

"You could give it to me," Junko grinned, her eyes dancing with expectation.

The pained expression she got in return from Haruka dimmed her expectation, though. Haruka could see her sister deflate and it tore at her heart.

"Unless Mom and Dad objected," Junko added, the disappointment clear in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Junko," Haruka said. "Personally, I think you can handle it. But . . ."

"But Mom was against it because it's from you," Junko sighed, "and Dad came up with ten thousand reasons why it's a bad idea."

"Yeah. I forget sometimes that you've lived with them longer than I have." Seeing her sister's disappointment gave Haruka new resolve. "If you want, I can hold onto the car for you until you're twenty."

"No," Junko shook her head. "It would just be another reason for you three to fight - - and I don't want that. Every time you three fight, you're that much farther away from getting back together again. That's more important than some old car."

There was a few moments where the gloom of the situation seemed about to crush them all. Then Junko reached out and pulled the Lamborghini folder toward her.

"Tell me some more about your new car, Haruka," she said, forcing a smile on her face.

Continued in Chapter 6


	6. Like A Tiger Protecting Cubs

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 6: "Like A Tiger Protecting Cubs"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>At the doctors office shared by Mamoru Chiba and Ami Mizuno, Mamoru was catching Ami up on what had happened the previous evening at his boyhood home.<p>

"But Luna could find no evidence that a murder had been committed?" Ami repeated. Already Mamoru could see his partner turning the puzzle over in her mind.

"Yeah," Mamoru said. "I had to practically get Usagi to swear a blood oath not to go to the Tezawa family and ask them. You know how she doesn't think of things like potential embarrassment when she's looking for answers."

"Yes," Ami replied, smiling faintly. "Of course, that would be a way to delve deeper into this mystery. I would advise someone more, well, perceptive than Usagi do it."

"Involve the Tezawa family in this? Is that necessary?"

"That depends upon how badly you want to solve this puzzle and perhaps trigger more memories," Ami advised him.

"But it can't be true," Mamoru retorted. "My father, a murderer? And if he did murder Midoki Tezawa, why would the Tezawa family cover it up?"

"It seems improbable," Ami replied, "but not out of the realm of possibility. Perhaps you could also talk to the physician who signed the death certificate."

"Minako said she would talk with Superintendent Sakurada about whether they had any evidence of a crime," Mamoru told her. He rubbed the back of his head. "It just seems so hard to believe."

"Perhaps," Ami said. "But if your memories are correct, your parents were fleeing something. This would be a reasonable explanation of what they were fleeing." She looked at Mamoru. "We can drop this if you wish."

Mamoru exhaled. "Let's hear what Minako has to tell us."

* * *

><p>Superintendent Sakurada looked up from the papers on her desk that she was studying when she heard the knock on the door. Without waiting to be called in, a woman with short black hair and dark sunglasses peeked into the room.<p>

"Got a minute, Superintendent?" Minako asked, wearing her disguise. Sakurada quickly gestured her in.

"V-Chan!" she cried, bounding out from behind her desk. She grasped Minako's hands in hers and looked intently into the dark lenses of the woman's sunglasses. "How are you doing?"

Minako shrugged. "I'm getting by," she sighed, "considering it feels like I've got a hole in my heart the size of a meat bun. Any leads on Ace?"

"Nothing," Sakurada grimaced. The still pretty woman in the stylish designer suit dress motioned Minako to a chair. "One of the things Takeda seems to do very well is go to ground." Minako pulled off her sunglasses and wig.

"That he does," Minako exclaimed with a deep melancholy.

"Is it true you're recording again?" Sakurada asked, the fangirl in her peeking through.

"Yeah," Minako nodded. "I hope it sounds good. It's a lot harder than I thought to do upbeat dance stuff when you just want to sit in bed and eat ice cream until you're fat." Minako allowed herself a moment to recover her composure. "I'll send you an advance copy, of course. Meanwhile, I wanted to ask you about something. It may be an old case."

"Really?" Sakurada asked, her curiosity piqued. "Go ahead."

"When Midoki Tezawa died back in 1982," Minako started, "was there a police investigation into the death?"

"Midoki Tezawa, the owner of Tezawa Securities?" Sakurada asked. She tapped on her computer until the file came up. "No. The death was listed as sudden severe myocardial infarction."

"Sorry," Minako grimaced. "One syllable words?"

"Massive heart attack," Sakurada grinned. "The family doctor filed a death certificate listing that as the cause of death. Since there was no complainant and no obvious evidence of foul play, and the death certificate was in order, there was no reason for an investigation." She looked at Minako. "Do you have evidence to the contrary?"

"Depends on what you call evidence," Minako sighed. "Right now all we have is the fragmentary memories of someone who was six at the time - - and who doesn't have the most reliable memory. So we're still in the question stage. I was hoping we could just pick up where you folks left off." She leaned forward. "Suppose I could get the name of that doctor off of the death certificate?"

"Certainly," Sakurada responded, writing down the name. "It's a public record." She handed the paper to Minako, then gave her a critical eye. "If something criminal does happen to turn up, V-Chan, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know."

"I suppose I deserved that, given what happened with Ace," Minako winced. "I'll keep you in the loop. I just want to ask you to keep any investigation low profile, OK? It might be embarrassing for - - a friend of mine."

"If it involves Midoki Tezawa, that goes without saying," Sakurada replied. "His widow, Madame Sukio Tezawa, is very protective of her family and its reputation."

"How protective?" Minako asked.

"Like a tiger protecting cubs," Sakurada answered.

* * *

><p>Driving up to the office of Dr. Sota Hitsugaya, the doctor of record on Midoki Tezawa's death certificate, Mamoru got out of his car. As he approached the office, though, he thought he heard the clatter of impractical shoes on pavement.<p>

"Mamo-Chan!" confirmed his premonition. Turning, Mamoru found Usagi running up.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I didn't want you to face this alone," Usagi told him. "What if you have another memory and you pass out again?"

"How did you even know about this?"

"After Mina-Chan called you, Artemis called Luna," Usagi explained. "And I overheard. Don't be stubborn, Mamo-Chan! I'm worried about you!"

"OK," he sighed, "but it will mostly be doctor talk. You'll probably be bored."

"No I won't," she smiled, her blue eyes radiant. "I'll be looking out for you."

Dr. Sota Hitsugaya was in his sixties, with graying black hair, a sagging face and a stocky body that was wider and sagged more than it once did. He probably didn't practice as much as he used to, but from the expensive adornment of his office, he clearly didn't have to for financial reasons. Adjusting his thick black frame glasses after inviting his guests to sit, Dr. Hitsugaya sat down at his desk.

"Dr. Chiba," he nodded. "And this is . . .?"

"My wife, Usagi," Mamoru replied. Hitsugaya nodded to her.

"You had some questions," Hitsugaya began tentatively, "about Tezawa-Sama? May I ask what your interest in him is?"

"My father worked for him as late as 1982," Mamoru explained. When it was clear that Hitsugaya wasn't impressed, he continued. "I'm trying to reconstruct the events surrounding the deaths of my parents in 1982. I'm inquiring about Tezawa-San because his death was on the same day, only a couple of hours apart as far as I can tell."

"And you wonder if there may be some connection?" Hitsugaya asked skeptically. "I seriously doubt that. Tezawa-Sama died of a sudden myocardial infarction due to blockage in the left ventricle."

"He had a history of heart disease?" Mamoru asked.

"I'm really not comfortable getting into specifics about a patient's medical history with non-family members," Hitsugaya replied. "You understand, of course."

"Of course," Mamoru nodded. "I just assumed that he had a history, since there was no autopsy performed. Without an autopsy to indicate ventricle blockage, cause of death had to be an assumption based on his history."

"Very logically deduced," Hitsugaya answered reluctantly. "Yes, both his wife and I were after him to get treatment, but Tezawa-Sama always had an excuse. Finally it caught up with him."

"Do you know if he had any visitors that day? Perhaps my father was there? Hotaro Chiba?"

"I'm afraid I don't have any information about that," Hitsugaya told them. "I was called in post-mortem. I don't even remember who found him."

"I suppose you wouldn't like to discuss any other conditions he had?" Mamoru asked.

"Not really. It would be a breach of ethics," the older doctor answered, "and Madame Tezawa is quite rigid about her family's privacy. If she were to permit it," and he trailed off. "But I wouldn't hold out much hope for that. Was there anything else?"

"I guess not," Mamoru said, rising and bowing to the doctor. Usagi quickly copied him. "Thank you for your time, Doctor."

"Not at all. I hope you're successful with your inquiry, Doctor," Hitsugaya stood and said.

However, after Mamoru and Usagi left his office, Dr. Hitsugaya sat down and punched a phone number into his desk phone.

* * *

><p>Rei was dreaming. She had enough experience with dreams of premonition by now to recognize them. It wasn't something she greeted happily. The unnerving part of such dreams was always that they seemed so agonizingly real when she actually experienced them. But knowing that she was powerless to change the dream, the priest allowed it to come without fighting.<p>

It was night. She was standing by the side of a road, a two-lane road in the more rugged, hilly section of Tokyo. The road was carved into the side of the hill, connecting one of the middle class suburban areas with the outskirts of the city. Above the highway was the peak of the hill, adorned with grass and some trees. Below the road was a ravine about fifty meters down. Only a single guardrail marked the road and kept traffic from the ravine.

Rei shuffled over, dressed in her priest robes, and peered over the guardrail. The light from the single street lamp cast harsh illumination onto the bushes closest to the edge, but couldn't penetrate completely into the darkness. The priest felt her chest tighten. There was a sense of foreboding about this place. A small voice told Rei to run, to get away before tragedy struck. But she stayed. She knew she had to, no matter what was coming.

Her head turned. A car was coming, mounting the darkened hill along the two-lane road. The sound quickly grew louder and she wondered if perhaps it was coming too fast for this narrow road at this height in this darkness. A sudden gust of wind brushed her skin and wafted her long black hair behind her. It gave Rei a chill because it seemed for an instant like the wail of a thousand dead souls bemoaning the approaching additions to their number.

Headlights turned the corner far faster than she anticipated. They bathed Rei in their unnatural halogen light. The car was coming up the hill around the turn way too fast. While she was no genius like Ami, Rei knew what centrifugal force was and instantly realized that the approaching car wasn't going to make the turn. She felt rather than heard tires skin on asphalt. She felt rather than heard the squeal of brakes locking. For a moment she thought the car was going to slam right into her, but Rei quickly realized that it would miss her.

But it wouldn't miss the guardrail. The front end impacted the guardrail. Whether from stress or defect or velocity or a combination of elements, the steel rent with a soundless exclamation that Rei sensed. With no barrier left, the car plunged over the embankment. Gravity caught it and sent it crashing down to the ravine below.

And Rei shrieked in mortal terror, for as the car passed her on her left, she saw Mamoru was behind the wheel and Usagi sitting next to him in the passenger's seat. And the expressions of fear for their lives on her two friends left Rei quaking.

Even after she woke up, Rei just lay there for a few moments, quaking in fear. Her body was a rush of adrenalin, her breath rapid and her skin clammy. When she finally had control of her faculties, Rei jumped out of bed and stumbled through the darkness of her bedroom, blindly searching.

The phone rang in the Chiba bedroom. Usagi grunted, rolled over and reclaimed unconsciousness. Mamoru grasped the phone by the third ring.

"Hello?" he whimpered.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Rei gasped on the other end. "I-I just had to know. You're all right?"

"Rei?" Mamoru asked incredulously. He could see Luna's luminous eyes looking up at him from the floor.

"IS USAGI ALL RIGHT?" Rei pleaded.

"She - - yes. She's fine," he mumbled. "We're both fine."

"Did she have a dream?" Luna prodded.

"I see," Rei whispered. "I'm sorry if I scared you. Go back to sleep. Tell Usagi to go back to sleep."

"She never really woke up," Mamoru replied. He heard Rei laugh nervously. "Did you have a dream about us?"

"Yes," Rei finally admitted. "Again, I'm sorry for scaring you." She was about to hang up, but pulled the phone back urgently. "Mamoru? Are you still there?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful," she advised. "Even in situations you wouldn't normally be careful in. I'll be there tomorrow morning, if that's all right. Until then . . ."

"Message received," Mamoru assured her. "We'll expect you tomorrow."

The phone disconnected. Rei held onto her end for a few moments, then replaced the receiver. She wondered about the dream. Obviously it was a warning of imminent danger to both Usagi and Mamoru. But what else did it mean?

* * *

><p>Usagi sat at the breakfast table, her head propped up on one hand and her eyes adamantly refusing to open. Her grip on consciousness was tenuous as she tried to blindly work her spoon from her bowl to her mouth.<p>

"What did she want?" she whimpered.

"Do pay attention, Usagi," Luna chastised. Her meal was finished and she sat on the edge of the table, glancing from Mamoru to Usagi.

"MAYBE IF YOU'D LET ME SLEEP, I COULD!" Usagi barked. A frazzled bit of blonde hair fell down across her face. Usagi made three attempts to grasp it before she was successful.

"She's coming to check up on us," Mamoru told his wife again. "She had a dream last night that obviously scared her. Knowing Rei, it's probably a good idea to listen to what she wants to warn us about."

"I hope it's nothing bad," Usagi mumbled before remembering to take the spoon out of her mouth. "I hate when Rei gets these dreams and premonitions. She worries herself sick over them. It's not good for her."

"Another reason why this problem can hopefully be resolved quickly," Luna remarked. "I am quite curious as to what she saw."

"I never understand her dreams," Usagi mumbled. She drifted off for a moment and nearly fell face first into her breakfast before catching herself. Helping her wake up was the sound of the doorbell.

"Hopefully that's her now," Mamoru said.

He got up and answered the door. However, instead of Rei Hino, two men were at the door. They were in their late thirties, slim and fit and wore crisp business suits. Both men had a professional air to them. Mamoru couldn't decide at first if they were police detectives or bankers. When he saw that one had a briefcase, he settled on the latter.

"You are Mamoru Chiba?" the lead man asked. His associate held the briefcase.

"I am," Mamoru nodded his head. In the background, Luna had circled behind Mamoru and was studying the two men from a distance. "And you are?"

"Suzuki," the lead man replied and for a moment Mamoru wasn't sure if it was the truth. "This is my junior, Mamamoto-San. We're here to discuss your recent inquiry concerning Midoki Tezawa. May we come in?"

Mamoru ushered them in. Usagi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen now, ran a hand over her unkempt hair and gripped her robe closed with her other hand. Luna kept out of sight, but not so that it affected her view of the two strangers. Mamoru gestured the two men to the sofa, while he pulled up a chair.

"You had some information on Tezawa-San?" Mamoru asked.

"No," Suzuki replied awkwardly. "We're here actually with a business proposal for you."

Everyone gave him a curious look. "My junior and I are here representing - - certain parties who wish to remain anonymous. Said parties do not wish any inquiries into the events surrounding the life of Tezawa-Dono. Said parties would like you to cease your efforts to learn more about the parts of Tezawa-Dono's life that aren't already a matter of public record."

Mamoru suddenly had another guess at their profession: attorneys.

"Of course, the parties we represent will be willing to compensate you in exchange for your cessation of all inquiries pertaining to Tezawa-Dono, his family and his business dealings," Suzuki continued.

"How much?" Usagi asked. She had no inclination to accept the offer, for getting Mamoru's memories back was far more important to her. Curiosity more than anything motivated the question.

"Would one hundred million yen be acceptable?" Suzuki said with a straight face. Usagi nearly fainted.

"That sounds like 'the parties you represent' are pretty desperate to keep something quiet," Mamoru observed.

"I assure you that you don't have to worry about doing anything illegal," Suzuki replied. "Our goal here is merely to keep from bringing old wounds to light."

"It must be a deep wound," Mamoru said. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your offer."

"We're prepared to go higher, if necessary," Suzuki persisted. "Two hundred and fifty million?"

"No, Suzuki-San," Mamoru began.

"Five hundred million?"

"Suzuki-San," Mamoru said, emotions welling within him. "Of what use is money if you don't have the peace of mind to enjoy it? Tell your clients that I'm not seeking to hurt them, but I have to pursue this for my own well-being."

Suzuki frowned. His colleague didn't seem happy, either.

"Very well," he sighed. They both reached into their suit jackets and removed twin .38 caliber black automatic pistols. One leveled at Mamoru while the other pointed at Usagi. "I apologize for having to do this. But our instructions were specific."

Continued in Chapter 7


	7. Higher Stakes

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 7: "Higher Stakes"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>The entire scene seemed right out of the espionage manga Usagi was currently drawing. Two men were sitting in the living room of the apartment she shared with her husband and Luna. They each had black automatic pistols. One was pointed directly at Mamoru, while the other was aimed at her. It all seemed so unreal, despite Usagi's colorful history.<p>

"I'm sorry we have to do this," one of the men - - Suzuki, he called himself - - said, "but our instructions are clear."

At least he had the decency to apologize. But that wouldn't make Mamoru or, less importantly to her, her any less dead. Usagi knew she had to do something. But, despite her years of facing danger and dealing with threats, her first reaction was not calling on the power of Sailor Moon.

"Please," Usagi spoke up, her pleading tone more for the gunmen's souls than for her life, "nothing can be important enough to kill for. Whatever you're protecting, I promise that we're not a threat to it."

"Again, I'm sorry," Suzuki replied in a business-like manner.

And out of the blue Luna was on him, scratching at his face and eyes with the fury of a South American panther. Suzuki howled in surprise, recoiling from the five pound black fury. However, he didn't let go of his gun. His partner seemed unsure whether to aid Suzuki or keep Mamoru covered. Until he committed, Mamoru didn't dare act.

"NOW, USAGI!" Luna bellowed as she continued to slash Suzuki's face. Her outburst brought a look of shock from Suzuki's partner. But it pushed Usagi into action.

"Moon Eternal Make Up!" Usagi shouted.

As Usagi transformed into Eternal Sailor Moon, Suzuki managed to push Luna away. He cradled his wounded face in his free hand, but still kept the pistol. His partner, now thoroughly dumbstruck by Usagi's transformation, froze in shock. At that point, Mamoru struck, grabbing the pistol and the hand that controlled it. This shook the assailant from his stupor and the two men grappled for control of the weapon.

When Sailor Moon's transformation locked in and she saw the danger her husband was in, she was quick to act. The Moon Tier materialized in her hand.

"Silver Moon Crystal Power Kiss!" preceded radiant waves of silver energy that blanketed the room. The two strangers were caught in its grasp. They ceased struggling. Sitting back, oblivious to their mission, to the dangers of capture they faced and to any wounds they had received, Suzuki and Mamamoto just sagged back on the sofa, stared out into space and smiled as if they'd never experienced joy this deep before. Mamoru and Luna, affected to a lesser extent as well, sat back and breathed out their relief.

"Mamo-Chan?" Sailor Moon gasped, running to his side and kneeling down next to him.

"I'm all right," he nodded. Instantly she turned to the little black cat.

"Thank you, Luna! Thank you for saving us!" Sailor Moon cried. Luna allowed herself a proud smile. "But why would they do something like this?"

"The implication is clear," Luna replied. "They and their mysterious employers were intent upon stopping Mamoru's inquiry and ensuring his silence. When they couldn't purchase his cooperation, they intended to silence him and you permanently."

"But why?" Sailor Moon persisted. "What could be so important?"

Just then, there was an insistent rapping at the front door. Sailor Moon instantly moved to answer it.

"Sailor Moon!" hissed the black cat. She stopped and turned to Luna curiously. "Carefully! It could be more of 'them'!"

"Well we won't know until we open the door," Sailor Moon replied. Again the party on the other side knocked urgently. "I'll be all right."

Luna tensed until she noticed Mamoru hadn't changed to Tuxedo Mask. Clearly he didn't sense any impending danger. And with that the door opened and her concerns were moot. On the other side was Rei, in her priest robes. She lunged in and seized Sailor Moon by the upper arms.

"What happened?" she demanded. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" Obviously Rei had sensed Usagi's distress. Given the flushing in her face and her heavy breathing, the priest had run here the moment she sensed it.

"I'm fine, Rei-Chan," chirped Sailor Moon. "Do you want some breakfast?"

Both women suddenly looked to the side, their attention drawn to the 'thud' made when Luna face-planted onto the floor.

* * *

><p>"Yes, Mamoru, I quite understand," Ami said over her cell phone. She was at the office, preparing for the day's patients. "You're certain you and Usagi are all right?"<p>

As Mamoru reassured her, the office receptionist came in. Used to Dr. Mizuno being the first one to report for work, Chiyo went over to her desk and logged into her computer.

"I wouldn't expect you to come in to work after something like that," Ami answered the statement only she heard. Chiyo looked up with mild curiosity. "I'll take on what patients I can and we'll just have to reschedule the rest. You and Usagi do what you have to do to resolve this. And please contact me if I can be of any assistance." She listened to the reply. "I'll call Makoto. And I'll stop by after work. Please keep me informed. And Mamoru - - please be cautious. Clearly the stakes are larger than we first estimated." Thoughtfully she closed her phone.

"Problem, Dr. Mizuno?" Chiyo asked.

"Yes, Dr. Chiba has," Ami began, "an emergency at home, and he won't be in today." She thought a moment. "I do hate cutting my sessions with my patients short, but it can't be helped. Please add three of Dr. Chiba's patients per hour to my schedule. Take the most critical needs patients. Reschedule the rest."

"Three more per hour?" goggled Chiyo. "That's not going to give you time to breathe!"

"It can't be helped," Ami replied. "Our patients have medical needs that must be attended to."

As Ami turned to call Makoto and inform her of what had happened, Chiyo shook her head in disbelief. Then she began juggling the appointment schedule and recording phone numbers to call.

* * *

><p>The stranger who had identified himself as Mamamoto came out of his stupor. It was sort of like waking from a drug-induced haze, something he'd experienced both medically and in a recreational capacity. He felt calm, at ease and totally refreshed. But scanning his surroundings quickly destroyed that calm. His partner was sitting next to him, still stuporous. Standing over him was one of their intended targets, Mamoru Chiba. Sitting to one side was a female priest and she was staring at him with the most unnerving, intense gaze. And further off was . . .<p>

"Y-You're Sailor Moon?" Mamamoto gasped out, pointing at Sailor Moon. He quickly looked at Mamoru. "You're married to-to Sailor Moon?"

Right then, he remembered why he was there. His hand dived into the jacket of his suit.

"We have your weapons," Mamoru told him, holding up the two pistols. "Now you need to answer some questions."

Mamamoto glanced nervously at Sailor Moon. He seemed to be frightened of her the most, although she was probably the least threat to him of those in the room. Behind her, he noticed the black cat peering at him with an expression of expectation and contempt.

"T-That cat talked!" he said to Mamoru.

"She bites, too," Mamoru replied. "Now who ordered you to kill us?"

Rei kept staring.

"I-I don't have anything to say," Mamamoto stammered out.

"Would you rather talk to the police?" Mamoru asked. "Because I don't think whoever is employing you would like the publicity."

"You can't!" he gasped quickly.

"Because?" Mamoru persisted.

Mamamoto sat nervously, wracking his brain for a way out of this. Then Sailor Moon approached. His eyes grew wide and his breath caught in his throat as Mamamoto speculated silently on what she planned to do to him. But she only knelt down and looked up at him with the biggest, most beautiful, most soulful blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"If you're in some sort of trouble, I'll help you," she said and for a moment Mamamoto flashed back to his wife when she was comforting his fears after his first assignment - - back when she was speaking to him. "If you need protection, I'll protect you. Please let me."

And he wanted to. But he'd heard the stories about what happened to people who crossed the family.

"I'm not saying anything," he shuddered. Rei and Sailor Moon stood up and conferred.

"Could you see anything?" she asked the priest. Rei pursed her lips.

"Bits and pieces," Rei related. "They got their orders over the phone. I couldn't see their contact's name or location." She sighed. "I'm sorry. Between worrying about the distress I was sensing from you and worrying about - - well, other things - - my sight's a little messed up."

"It's all right, Rei-Chan," Sailor Moon smiled and put her hand on the priest's shoulder.

"You know," Mamamoto piped up, "you better not turn me over to the police. Or else I might just have to tell them everything that happened here - - and I mean EVERYTHING." And he looked directly at Sailor Moon. "It's probably something you don't want getting around, Mrs. Chiba. So you might want to let me go. And you might want to forget your inquiries about the death of Midoki Tezawa, too. If you want to keep this a secret, you know?"

Rei was in his face in an instant.

"And I could also burn you and your partner until you're both fine ash," Rei snarled, "and then sprinkle you on my flower bed so you and he will FINALLY do something beneficial for this world!"

"Rei-Chan!" Sailor Moon cried, pulling the priest away from him. By now Suzuki was recovering. He'd heard what was going on, but up until now hadn't cared much. With Sailor Moon's attack wearing off, his true emotions were returning.

"You're wasting your sympathy on people like them, Sailor Moon," Rei shot back. "Don't forget, they were going to kill both you and Mamoru in cold blood - - for money!"

"It doesn't mean we have to answer blood with blood," Sailor Moon whispered. Passing Rei, she stood before them once more. "Please tell us who sent you. We don't want to hurt them. We just want to end this, so no one gets hurt."

The two glanced at each other, but remained silent.

"I don't think either of them know that much," Mamoru commented. "And the fact that they were sent here with these instructions tells me there's more to learn on our present course. We may as well let them go."

"But not without precautions," Rei said, whipping out two of her wards.

"Wipe their memories?" Sailor Moon almost sobbed. Both men's eyes grew wide.

"If their employers learn who you really are, they'll use it against you," Rei cautioned her.

"But it's not right!" moaned Sailor Moon. "We're robbing them of part of their past, years of their lives that they'll never get back! We'll be forcing them to suffer just like Mamo-Chan has suffered all these years!"

"We can't let them go intact," Rei persisted. "It puts you at risk, as well as Mamoru and anyone around you two." Sailor Moon's gaze fell to the floor.

"It's the wisest course, Sailor Moon," Luna solemnly advised her.

Sailor Moon seemed like she was about to cry. Then she held up a reluctant hand to Rei. The priest grasped it and felt the phenomenal crystal energy surge into her.

* * *

><p>Outside of a recording booth in downtown Tokyo, Minako Aino was on her cell phone.<p>

"So that's the story, Blondie," Makoto Kino Ikegami related on the other end.

"Man, if that was a movie script, I'd throw it on the reject pile," Minako said. "They need me to come over?"

"Rei's over there now. And Mamoru said everything was in hand. They did want us to come over tonight," Makoto told her. "Sort of a strategy session, I'd imagine."

"I'd hope. I'm sure Usagi will want to take this lying down, but that doesn't mean the rest of us have to."

"You sound pretty up for a fight," Makoto remarked.

"What do you expect? I'm frustrated," Minako shot back. "If I'm lucky, we'll run up against some baddie and I can pretend he's Ace and zap him between the eyes." A man popped into the hall from the studio and silently motioned to Minako. She nodded. "OK, if they've got things under control, I'll get back to recording this new album. See you tonight. If I'm lucky, I'll have the recording all done and I can give you guys one hundred percent of me." She grinned. "Although half of me is worth more than all of most people."

"Try to rein it back while we can still fit your head through the door, Blondie," chuckled Makoto. "See you tonight."

Minako closed the phone. It felt good trading good-natured barbs with Makoto again. Just like it felt good being in a recording studio again. And it would be good being Sailor Venus again, fighting the good fight and protecting her princess. Things almost seemed normal again.

Maybe there was life after heartbreak.

* * *

><p>Mamoru, Usagi and Rei drove through the upper income section of Tokyo. Loudly Usagi marveled at the expensive homes, expensive cars and the utter hugeness of the lots those homes rested upon. Quietly Rei marveled as well. Land was a premium in Japan and for some to own lots as big as the one the shrine rested upon was staggering. Mamoru, though, was too busy mulling over what they had learned and how it connected with what little he remembered to notice.<p>

"Not to be a wet blanket," Rei spoke up, "but what makes you think Madame Tezawa is going to speak to us in person when she wouldn't speak to you over the phone?"

"Hope, I suppose," Mamoru sighed. "If we show up in person and are earnest enough, maybe she'll give us some of her time." He glanced at Rei and grinned. "And maybe they won't have the nerve to slam the gate in a priest's face."

"I don't know why she wouldn't see us," Usagi added. "We just want to ask some questions. I know it might be bringing up painful memories." Usagi thought a moment. "Maybe that's why she doesn't want to see us. Maybe thinking about that time is too painful."

"Maybe," Mamoru replied. "It doesn't explain those retainers, though. Hopefully she'll want to find out who wants this investigation dropped as much as we do."

"I wish I'd been able to get more out of them," Rei scowled.

"It's all right, Rei-Chan," Usagi smiled. "We know you're preoccupied with Derek returning to Japan."

Rei colored. "W-Where did you hear about that?" she gasped.

"Mako-Chan," Usagi answered, surprised by her friend's reaction. "She didn't think it was a secret."

The priest frowned. "I suppose it isn't. It's just - - it's no excuse."

"Are you and he getting back together?" Usagi asked hopefully.

"Mind your own business, Nosey-pants," Rei replied, looking straight ahead. Usagi scowled.

The car pulled up in front of a gated mansion. The grounds were surrounded by a stone wall. A wrought iron gate barred the entrance. There was an intercom embedded in the wall. Mamoru got out and stared at the place. Usagi and Rei emerged and looked curiously at him.

"Do you remember something, Mamo-Chan?" Usagi asked.

He stared. "I," he began, "don't think so. Not the mansion, anyway." Dismissing it, he walked up to the intercom and pressed the button. A gruff male voice answered. "I'd like to speak with Tezawa-San, please."

"Name?"

"Mamoru Chiba," Mamoru answered. "I called earlier."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But it's very important that I speak with her. I promise I won't take up much of her time."

"Tezawa-Sama does not see anyone without a prior appointment."

"But I may have some information concerning," he began, but the intercom suddenly cut him off.

The three looked at each other with some disappointment. They were about to get back into the car when the intercom sounded again.

"We will open the gate. Please drive your car along the right hand path to the house. Do not deviate from that path."

The three glanced at each other, surprised by the sudden change in demeanor. After they were all in, Mamoru drove through the gate and followed the designated path. The grounds of the mansion were quite ornate, decorated with trees, flower beds and hedges, all elegantly manicured. It put the grounds of the shrine to shame and Rei made mental notes as they traveled.

Arriving at the front patio of the mansion, the three disembarked. Two servants stood at either side of the door. Coming out at a brisk pace was a woman, but hardly the woman they expected. She was in her mid-thirties, short and slim like so many Japanese women. Her black hair was cut to the shoulder and she wore a tailored dark blue suit jacket and knee length skirt, with matching pumps and a white blouse. Her features were feminine and beautiful, but her expression was all business. Without hesitation, she walked right up to Mamoru, her eyes taking in every inch of Usagi and Rei as she moved. Stopping about two feet from him, she looked up at Mamoru, who towered over her by a good seven inches, without seeming intimidated by their different heights.

"I'm Wakaba Tezawa," she said crisply, in a way that indicated she was used to dealing with people. "I'm curious about why you've been calling my mother."

Continued in Chapter 8


	8. The Two Lady Tezawas

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 8: "The Two Lady Tezawas"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>Wakaba Tezawa stood and waited for Mamoru to respond. She said nothing to either Usagi or Rei. She barely acknowledged their presence. Her steely gaze was locked on Mamoru and her expression expected obedience.<p>

"Well?" she prodded when he didn't respond fast enough.

"I'm sorry," Usagi began, prompting an impatient glance from the business-like woman. "We were expecting to speak with Madame Tezawa."

"My mother doesn't speak to outsiders unless she deems it unavoidable," Wakaba replied curtly. "Any communication you wish to make can be made to me." She turned back to Mamoru. "I imagine this explains your initial surprise. But you still haven't answered my question."

"Excuse us for taking up your time, Tezawa-San," Mamoru began. "I'm Dr. Mamoru Chiba. This is my wife, Usagi," and he gestured to her, "and a - - family friend, Sensei Rei Hino."

Wakaba nodded.

"I'm looking into the death of my parents back in 1982," he continued. "I just wanted to ask Madame Tezawa a few questions concerning the death of your father, Tezawa-Dono."

"Why?" Wakaba asked, short and to the point.

"My father worked for your father at the time," Mamoru explained. "And their deaths were hours apart. I was curious about it. Perhaps the death of your father might give me some clues as to the death of mine."

"I don't see how," Wakaba responded with a challenge in her voice. "My father died of a heart attack."

"And mine died in a car crash," Mamoru replied stiffly. "I know. I was there. Some of the circumstances leading up to the crash are unclear, though. I think my father met with yours earlier that day. I had hopes that Madame Tezawa might know something about what went on at that meeting."

The Tezawa woman turned introspective. She exhaled loudly, but didn't speak. Finally she reached a conclusion.

"I very much doubt that my mother knows anything about what happened in this meeting you say happened," Tezawa responded. "My parents had very well defined roles: He ran the business and she ran the household. His office upstairs was part of the business and she usually left him to business until it interfered with home life. I'm assuming this 'meeting' you're researching happened here, since my father was home all day that day."

"Can we please ask her? Maybe she saw or heard something that will give us a clue about what happened," Usagi interjected. "It's very important to my husband, and it might let you know some of your father's final hours."

Wakaba Tezawa glanced at Usagi as if she found the woman an annoyance.

"My mother does not like to talk about that day," Wakaba informed her. "It's a very painful memory for her. Anyone who has had experience with her knows that the subject is off-limits."

"We don't mean to cause her any pain," Usagi argued in that supplicant manner she had, "but Mamo-Chan has suffered for years with this. She might be able to help. Please make her see that."

"Another thing you need to realize about my mother," Tezawa replied, "is that she doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do - - particularly in her older years. I wish you luck in your investigation, but my mother won't see you and there's nothing anyone can do to change that. Good-bye."

"But . . .!" Usagi began.

"The butler will show you out," Tezawa interrupted.

"Do you?" Mamoru spoke up. Tezawa's eyes flared. "Do you really hope we find our answers?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" the woman challenged.

"Since we started this inquiry, two men came to our home and threatened us," Mamoru told her. "Somebody doesn't want what happened that day uncovered."

"Then I suggest you take the matter to the police," Tezawa responded. "Do you think I hired them? I can tell you that I don't do business that way. There is no place for strong arm thugs in the world of financial investment." She glanced at the butler. "Mitsuzaka."

As the butler moved in, Wakaba Tezawa turned and headed back up the stairs. Usagi began to protest, but Mamoru moved in and herded her toward the door. Outside, he and Rei led her to the car.

"I don't understand people like that!" Usagi fumed. "How can you not help somebody if you have the chance?"

"Maybe it's just like Tezawa-San said," Mamoru offered. "It's too painful for her mother to relive." He turned to Rei as he started the car. "Did you get any impressions?"

"Bits and pieces again," Rei replied in frustration. "I'm sorry, but my sight is still messed up. She seemed to be telling the truth. I did get a strong impression of subservient respect for her mother. Madame Tezawa still has psychological dominance over her daughter, even at this age. But I can't tell you for sure if she was being truthful, or even if she was omitting things."

Mamoru blew out air as he passed through the gate and onto the road outside of the mansion.

"I'd really like to know what happened in that meeting between Tezawa-Dono and my father," Mamoru said as he drove. "If there even was one. But with both participants dead, those events may never be known."

"We'll find a way, Mamo-Chan," Usagi assured him. "And it will prove that your father was mistaken. There's no way he could have killed anyone."

"Frankly, I'm more concerned about whether there will be another attempt on your life," Rei muttered, her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders hunched.

The car mounted a hill, headed back to Tokyo proper. As they turned along the highway ringing the side of the hill, Mamoru glanced at the guard rails on the side of the road. He couldn't help but flash back to that night. All his life, it seemed like he couldn't look at a guard rail without flashing back to that night and that terrible feeling of the car hovering in space just before it dived into the ravine. And out of the blue, he pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road. Usagi and Rei both stared at him as Mamoru stared out into nothingness.

"Mamoru?" Rei prodded.

"That night," Mamoru whispered. "Just before we went off of the embankment. I saw it."

"Saw what?" Usagi asked.

"The gun," Mamoru answered. "My father had a gun. It was tucked in his waistband."

* * *

><p>There was a knock on a bedroom door. The frail old woman in the rocking chair looked up from her album of photos. She was barely five feet tall, with stooped shoulders and a thin frame that had been petite in her younger days. Now it was just fragile-looking, as if a gust of wind would flail her apart. Closing the album took effort, for her hands shook from the stroke she had suffered several years ago. The woman intentionally kept the person outside the door waiting while she slowly placed the album on a side table and then brushed a gray hair from her face with a trembling hand.<p>

"Come in," she said at last. Wakaba Tezawa entered.

"I just wanted to check on you before I went out for the evening, Okaa-san," Wakaba informed her.

"I'm fine. You go ahead," Sukio Tezawa said. "Who was at the door?"

"Someone who wanted to talk to you about," Wakaba began, then hesitated, "about Otoo-san. I turned them away."

"What was his name?" Sukio asked.

"Don't worry. He won't come back."

"What was his name!" the elder woman demanded.

"Dr. Mamoru Chiba," Wakaba said, giving in to her mother's commanding nature. Sukio digested this.

"You did correctly," Sukio replied, mollified. "I have no wish to speak to anyone on that subject."

"He said he was the son of a man who worked for Otoo-san," Wakaba began.

"I am truly not interested in that," Sukio said imperiously. "And I believe you have more important things to worry about."

"Yes, Ma'am," Wakaba sighed.

When her daughter was gone from the room, Sukio reached over with her withered hand and picked up a cell phone. Though she would never really think of it as a phone, being used to the old rotary table models, the light weight made it easier for her to hold and manipulate. It was a concession to her age that she resigned herself to make. Carefully punching in a phone number, Sukio brought the phone up to her ear and waited for an answer to her call.

"Yes?" came a man's voice on the other end.

"What happened?" Sukio Tezawa demanded.

"I sent them out as instructed," the reply came.

"I just had a visit from Chiba," Sukio snapped. "He's still asking questions. What do your men have to say for themselves?"

"I," the man sputtered, "haven't heard back from them. Maybe they missed Chiba - - didn't get to deliver the message."

"Increase your efforts," Sukio told him. "I want this over. I don't care how, as long as it doesn't come back to this house."

"I'll get right on it," the man assured her. But he waited for her to hang up first.

Sukio closed the cell phone and replaced it on the table with a shaking hand. Her arm came to rest on the arm of the rocker while she stared off at nothing.

"How long is this going to haunt me, Midoki?" Sukio whispered to herself. Then she eased over her walker and slowly pulled herself up to stand on weakened legs.

* * *

><p>The two gunman, identified only as Suzuki and Mamamoto, sat on a bench near a playground in the residential area of Azabu-Juuban. The two men sat and stared, watching the world go by as if nothing had priority on their time. People passed them by with only an occasional glance. Neither man returned their gaze.<p>

At length, a car drove up and stopped near them. It was a black Toyota mid-size, nondescript and as alike as a hundred other cars on the street. The man who got out was unremarkable as well. Slicked back black hair crowned an ordinary face hidden by dark glasses. He wore a dark suit off the rack from a common clothier and black leather shoes. Glancing around the area to size it up, he quickly walked over to the two men on the bench.

"Saito! Ishikawa! Where have you two been?" he hissed, trying to get their attention while trying not to get anyone else's. After a few moments, both men looked up at him.

"Do you know me?" the man who had identified himself as Suzuki asked. "You know my name is Saito. Have we met?"

"What the Hell's wrong with you?" the stranger demanded. Not getting an immediate answer from Saito/Suzuki, he turned to Ishikawa/Mamamoto.

"Damned if I know," the other man shrugged. "What year is this, anyway?"

"What happened?" the stranger reiterated. "Did you take care of Chiba?"

"Who?" Ishikawa asked.

"What are you two, high?" the stranger demanded.

"I don't remember," Ishikawa replied, his voice trembling from anxiety. "This is Tokyo, isn't it? What am I doing in Tokyo? I'm supposed to be in Kyushu."

"You transferred from there two years ago!" gasped the stranger.

"Hey," Saito said, timidly nudging Ishikawa, "do you know this guy?"

"Let me get this straight," he began, staring both men in the eye. "You both can't remember what happened to you?"

Both men shook their heads. The stranger straightened up and flipped open his cell phone.

"It's me," he said. "Yeah, I found them. But something went wrong. I don't know, and they don't seem to be in any shape to tell me." He listened. "Yeah, client said Chiba is still nosing around. Fax me Chiba's file. I'm going to have to handle this myself."

* * *

><p>In her office at Tezawa Investments, Wakaba Tezawa was studying her computer screen like she did every day. But this time she wasn't studying the Nikkei Index. She was studying an old personnel file on Hotoro Chiba. The woman unhurriedly digested every fact about him, every personnel review, every recorded fact about his work with the company that was in his file. As she studied the reviews, she got the impression of a man generally well-regarded by his supervisors. The list of his sales described a man who was competent at his job, but someone who lacked the unconquerable drive to succeed over everyone else.<p>

He even seemed to be moving up in the company in early 1982. Then it all ended, ironically on the same day her own father had died. Or was it irony? Was it coincidence? Chiba's son seemed to think differently.

Her phone rang. It was her personal assistant on the other end, telling her that Fuso Watabari had arrived and was waiting. Moments later, Watabari entered.

Watabari was nearing sixty and had been with the company for thirty-five years. Tezawa saw him as someone like Chiba had been: competent, dedicated, loyal, but someone who would always remain a foot soldier. She could see the anxiety in Watabari's face. Being summoned to the President of the company's office would, for a man like him, immediately conjure up visions of discipline, possibly even termination. Presidents didn't talk to people like him unless he'd done something spectacularly wrong, for people like him usually didn't achieve spectacular successes.

"You wanted to see me, Tezawa-Sama?" Watabari asked, bowing to her.

"Yes. Sit down," she said, nodding to a chair. Watabari was quick to obey. "You've been with the company thirty-five years." He nodded anxiously. "You're one of the few here that go back to 1982. Did you know a Hotoro Chiba?"

The question caught Watabari off-guard. "Chiba?" he repeated, searching his memory. "Yes, I recall him. '82 was the year he died, wasn't it? So tragic. And on the same day as your father's death."

"Yes," Wakaba replied, desperately concealing the sting of the memory. "What were your impressions of Chiba?"

"Chiba? Nice guy. Very conscientious. Very reliable." Watabari smiled wistfully. "Very attached to his son. He would always talk about the boy, how he was going to be a doctor or a Dietman or some such."

"Did he have a close relationship with my father?" Tezawa asked.

"With - - your father?" Watabari repeated. He was tensing up again.

"Yes," Tezawa prodded.

"Not really. Not that I know of," Watabari replied. He seemed to be hoping he was saying the right thing. "Chiba was just another employee. We all admired your father, of course, but . . ."

"Please don't tell me what you think I want to hear," Wakaba frowned. "I want an honest opinion. There won't be any reprisals for it. I know my father could be demanding. And I know he wasn't afraid to take what he wanted. It's one of the reasons he was successful." Her gaze on Watabari intensified. "And I understand that such an attitude can create ill will sometimes."

"A-As you say," Watabari sighed.

"So while my father's accomplishments and success might have been admired," Wakaba continued, "perhaps he - - personally - - wasn't always?"

Watabari sat there, considering what to say.

"Perhaps there was some ill will between Chiba and my father?" Wakaba probed. "Perhaps Chiba may have expressed such feelings at one time, in an unguarded moment?"

"Tezawa-Sama," Watabari said, his eyes lowered, "it was almost thirty years ago. And it could be just a coincidence. I'm not even sure I remember it right anymore."

"Remember what?" Wakaba urged him on.

"Well," Watabari began reluctantly, "there was one time. Chiba came in that morning and he was angry about something. He wouldn't talk about it - - only wanted to see Tezawa-Dono - - your father. Well, your father was working at home that day, so Chiba left. I don't know if he went home or went to your father's home, or just went drinking at some bar."

"When was this?" Wakaba asked.

Watabari seemed almost ill. "The day they both died," he replied. Then he quickly added, "It's probably just a coincidence. They may not have even met. Your father may have had his heart attack first and prevented whatever Chiba's grievance was from coming out."

"And he didn't say anything to you about what made him angry?"

"No," Watabari answered, swallowing. "Maybe Chiba felt he deserved a bonus or a promotion . . . or something."

"Thank you. You can go," she told the nervous man. Already she had dismissed him from her mind and Watabari was grateful to escape with his job still seemingly intact. As the door closed, Wakaba Tezawa began to contemplate the scenario. She knew from what Dr. Chiba had told her that her father may had met with Chiba that day. Had they had an argument? A fight? Some violent altercation? Had the confrontation induced her father's heart attack?

Or had he died some other way? Fishing out her PDA, Tezawa summoned the phone number for Dr. Sota Hitsugaya, the family's personal physician. Once she had the number, she called it.

"Dr. Hitsugaya?" Tezawa asked when the phone on the other end connected. "Wakaba Tezawa. I need to talk to you." She listened to his answer. "No, I'm fine. But I need to talk to you as soon as possible. When can we meet?"

Continued in Chapter 9


	9. Shifting Fortunes

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 9: "Shifting Fortunes"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>Michiru entered the living room of the home she shared with Haruka Tenoh. There was Haruka, sitting on the sofa, brooding. A wistful smile crossed the woman's lips. In some ways, her mate could be so predictable.<p>

"You're going to get worry lines," Michiru said, kneeling behind Haruka. She draped her arms around her lover's neck and lightly kissed it.

"Serve me right," Haruka muttered. "Wasn't I the one who kept telling you that my parents couldn't do anything else to bug me?" She gritted her teeth. "Man, I hate the way they constantly try to shove me out of Junko's life!"

"Well, they did have a point about the Fiat," Michiru said, nuzzling her. "But it's just one of those things we have to endure. Your parents aren't going to change their minds about us. Being angry about it only makes you feel bad."

"Hang the Fiat," Haruka fumed. "I'd sell the thing today if it would make this all go away. I don't want to fight with them anymore. It upsets Junko. They don't have to like who I became. I just don't want Junko in the middle of it anymore."

"I'd so like to tell you that will happen some day," Michiru said. "If you want to give her a graduation present, give her one. Don't depend on them to approve. My only caution would be to get something that isn't extravagant and flashy, something that doesn't rub their noses in it. You should stand up for your rights as Junko's sister, but you don't have to hit them over the head with them."

"Would I do that?" Haruka asked, flashing her that naughty boy grin with a cocked eyebrow. Michiru felt herself tingle. She gave Haruka a cynical smile in return.

"Let me know what you decide," Michiru whispered. Her hands caressed Haruka's cheeks as she stood up. Then she got up and got back to what she had been doing, leaving Haruka to ponder some more.

* * *

><p>It was after one in the afternoon when Mamoru, Usagi and Rei pulled back into the parking garage under their apartment building. They got out of the car, their conversation continuing.<p>

"I'm sorry I made us stop for lunch, Mamo-Chan," Usagi offered penitently, "but I was just starving."

"Yes, she hadn't eaten since breakfast," Rei added slyly. Usagi shot her a dirty look.

"It's all right," Mamoru told her. "It's not like it was keeping us from anything important. I don't know where else to go to find answers. Madame Tezawa won't talk about that day and we can't really make her. Unless I can find something else that can trigger a memory, I'm at a dead end." He scowled. "I'd hate to go through life knowing my dad may be a murderer."

"He's not," Usagi declared, her hands gripping her husband's upper arms. "No one who was responsible for bringing you into the world could possibly be a murderer." In the background, Rei smiled warmly.

"All sorts of passions can lead a person to murder, Usako," Mamoru replied. "It isn't reserved for the greedy and callous. I'd like to think my father was a good man, but even a good man can be driven to it."

Usagi snuggled in against Mamoru, trying to comfort him. His arm draped around her and together they walked down the drive of the garage for the elevator. Rei was a discreet distance behind them.

A squealing tire echoed through the garage. It wasn't unusual and usually meant someone had been in a hurry and took a corner too fast. As it was, Mamoru didn't turn to look. Rei did, though, either from her heightened sense or her suspicious nature. She saw the car, a black Toyota mid-size, speeding down the garage drive, headed straight for Mamoru and Usagi. The priest screamed a warning even as her henshin stick appeared in her hand, but she knew immediately that it wouldn't be quick enough.

However, Mamoru was already in action even as Rei screamed out her warning. He turned and scooped Usagi off of her feet into his arms, even as he transformed into Tuxedo Mask. His sense of Usagi being in danger had tipped him off to the oncoming car before Rei's shout. The car plowed through the spot where Mamoru and Usagi had been without any sign of stopping. Tuxedo Mask and Usagi were not there. He leaped effortlessly over the car, Usagi wide-eyed and clinging to him as he cradled her. Gracefully he landed several feet away and gently put Usagi back onto her feet. The car kept going, speeding up the ramp for the entrance to the garage.

Pausing only for a final check to see if Usagi was unhurt, Tuxedo Mask turned and raced after the car. Walking stick in one hand and three roses in the other, the figure in black and red moved faster than any normal human and attempted to close the gap between him and the fleeing car. Rei ran over to Usagi.

"Are you OK?" Rei gasped frantically.

"I think so," heaved Usagi. "Do you think that was another attempt on Mamo-Chan?"

Rei gave her a cynical look. Before she could respond, Tuxedo Mask returned.

"I lost the car in traffic," he said, his identity fading back to Mamoru.

"Mamo-Chan! That's twice now!"

"Apparently I've kicked over a hornet's nest," Mamoru commented.

"I can try to do a fire reading," Rei offered. "I can't guarantee the results, though."

"Let's see if the cats have dug up anything," Mamoru suggested.

The three turned toward the elevator. But before they could start walking, Usagi stopped them both. Then she took two long, exaggerated looks down both ends of the garage. Only when she was sure it was safe did she let them go.

* * *

><p>Mikuru Hayato was the live-in cook for the Tezawa house. She had only been there for a few years and was only hired because Sukio Tezawa was no longer able to cook because of her stroke, and Wakaba Tezawa was too busy with her job running the family investment business. She prided herself on being good at her job and got no complaints from any of the other household. Sukio Tezawa, however, was a stern taskmaster and difficult to please.<p>

"You're spending too much on herbs and seasonings," Sukio told her harshly. She and Mikuru were in the middle of the madame's weekly inspection of the kitchen. "Just because we have the money to spend, doesn't mean you have to spend it."

"Yes, Tezawa-Sama," Mikuru replied, knowing better than to argue.

"You put entirely too much seasoning in your recipes anyway," the withered old woman continued. "Just because it's there, doesn't mean you have to use it."

"Yes, Tezawa-Sama," Mikuru replied, trying to endure this weekly torture. Despite the splendid salary she got for being the household's cook, she was seriously considering leaving. Nothing was worth enduring this bitter old woman.

"And why are we having crab tonight? We're not entertaining anyone!"

Before Mikuru could answer, Mitsuzaka the butler appeared.

"Please pardon the interruption, Tezawa-Sama," he said, bowing to the lady of the house. "There is a phone call waiting for you from a Mister Kon."

That got Sukio's attention. "I'll take it in Midoki's office," she said, hobbling toward the door. "See that I'm not disturbed until I call for you." Silently Mikuru mouthed her gratitude to Mitsuzaka.

Alone in the office, maintained as it had been for nearly thirty years almost as a shrine, Madame Tezawa pressed the button for the line on hold and put the phone to her ear.

"Are you there, Ma'am?" the voice of "Mr. Kon" on the phone asked.

"You were instructed not to call me at this number!" fumed the old woman.

"Your cell phone was turned off!" he replied anxiously.

"That's no . . ."

"This job has gotten a lot more complex," Kon informed her.

"He's just one man."

"The Sailor Senshi are involved!"

Sukio digested this. "You're certain?"

"I had Chiba and his wife right in my sights," Kon related. "It was perfect. It would have looked like a common hit-and-run accident. And then," and Kon paused, incredulity robbing him of speech. "He came out of nowhere! He was just - - there, scooped up the woman and I think Chiba, and was gone!"

"Who came out of nowhere?" Sukio demanded.

"The guy in the tuxedo!" Kon shouted. "The one who's always around Sailor Moon! That means they're involved! If they're protecting Chiba . . .!"

"Don't lose your head," Sukio told him. "It could just be a coincidence."

"No! I found my two operatives! They were sitting in the park in a daze! They couldn't remember the last five years!"

"Are they on drugs?" sneered Sukio.

"It's Sailor Moon! She did this to them! She has all sorts of powers! Normal humans can't fight her!" Kon paused for a moment to gather his courage. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'm going to have to drop out of this."

"I've paid you well!" barked the old woman, her vigorous spirit a sharp contrast to her withered body. "And I can make things just as difficult for you as Sailor Moon can!"

There was a few moments of silence and Madame Tezawa thought at first that he'd hung up.

"I'd rather take my chances with you," he replied and disconnected.

* * *

><p>Usagi, Mamoru and Rei entered the apartment and found more guests than they expected. Luna was sitting on the kitchen counter, pecking away at her laptop. The voice of Artemis could be heard over the computer, meaning Luna was connected in real time to his computer at Minako's luxury apartment. But Makoto was there as well, with Ichiro in tow. Immediately the child made a beeline for Usagi, who knelt down to hug him.<p>

"Ichiro, I'm so glad to see you!" Usagi squealed, squeezing Ichiro like she was holding on for dear life. Finally she released the boy. "And I think I've got something for you."

"You're not going to say anything?" Rei asked Makoto as Usagi went fishing in her purse for candy.

"Does it help?" Makoto sighed.

"What are you doing here, Mako-Chan?" Usagi asked.

"I had to come over," Makoto shrugged. "I just couldn't stay home and wonder about what happened. Somebody tried to kill you two?"

"It happened again just now!" exclaimed Usagi. "In the parking garage! Mamo-Chan saved me, but the car got away."

"Indeed?" gasped Luna, looking up from her computer. "Did you get a license?"

"It looked like the plate was covered over," Mamoru replied.

"And that tells me it was no accident," Rei added. "You don't need second sight to know that."

"Yeah, this should be enough," Makoto said, gesturing to the kitchen counter. Sitting next to Luna were two menacing black guns and two cell phones that Mamoru had taken from their breakfast time visitors. "Any idea who they are?"

"I could try to do a fire reading," offered Rei. "I don't know if I'll see anything."

"Actually, Artemis has managed to pull the phone records from the two cellular phones," Luna reported. "They show a significant amount of phone traffic between both phones and a cellular phone registered to one Akimari Yojitsu. The phones themselves are registered to Tam Mizuhara and Akinori Kendo.

"But they said their names were Mamamoto and Suzuki," Usagi said.

"Aliases," Rei sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Any luck tracing them yet, Artemis?"

"Nothing on Mizuhara," Artemis reported. "I can't find anything on the Yojitsu name, but the billing address for the phone matches an office for a Renji Yamanaka. He's listed as a private investigator. Kendo comes up in the police records as an alias for Kumura Tanto - - one conviction for battery and extortion."

"That's the one who called himself Mamamoto," Mamoru said, glancing at the mug shot on Luna's computer.

"Suppose I go pay this Renji Yamanaka a visit," Makoto suggested. "See if I can find out who hired him to shut you two up."

"Suppose I go with you," Rei added. "We don't know enough about this situation. Two senshi might be better than one."

"Who's going to watch them?" Makoto asked, gesturing at Usagi and Mamoru.

"It's almost three," Mamoru assured them. "Ami and Minako will be here between five and five-thirty. We'll be all right until then."

Nodding, the two women headed for the door.

"Mommy?" Ichiro anxiously gestured to Makoto. That's when Usagi swooped in.

"It's all right, Ichiro," she cooed. "Your mommy just has to go do something for a while. Hey, why don't we go draw pictures?"

"Yes, Anny Usagi!" the child grinned. "You draw good!"

Usagi led the boy over to an end table, then sat down beside him. She glanced up at the door. Rei was standing there beaming, while a grateful Makoto silently mouthed a "thank you" to her.

"Now what she we draw, Ichiro?" Usagi asked while Rei and Makoto silently slipped out the door. "I know! Let's draw a Pegasus!"

* * *

><p>Wakaba Tezawa walked into the reception area of Dr. Hitsugaya's office. It was empty, save for the receptionist. Dr. Hitsugaya's patient list had been whittled down to the point that he only came in two days a week to practice and consult. His wife acted as his receptionist. Being a longtime friend of the Tezawa family dating back before Wakaba was born, the woman instantly recognized her.<p>

"Wakaba-Chan!" Mrs. Hitsugaya exclaimed, her face lighting up. "It's been such a while since I've seen you!"

"Yes it has, Oba-San," Wakaba smiled patiently. "Unfortunately, Mother doesn't entertain very much anymore. Not since the stroke."

"How is she doing?"

"Mentally, she's as commanding and stubborn as ever," Wakaba related. "Physically she just seems to get weaker every day. And I know it frustrates her, and that just makes her more irritable. She drives the staff crazy. Sometimes I have to intervene just to shield them."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Hitsugaya sympathized. "Maybe you should consider hiring a nurse."

"I'm sure it will come to that," Wakaba replied, "eventually. But not just yet. There's no way she'd tolerate a nurse just yet." There was an awkward moment of silence. "Is Dr. Hitsugaya with someone right now? I had called ahead and told him I needed to speak with him."

"No, go right ahead," Mrs. Hitsugaya smiled. "He's just puttering through some medical journals at the moment. And Wakaba-Chan - - stop by the house some night. We'd love to have you to dinner." She smiled devilishly. "And maybe you could bring some young man with you. I'm sure an eligible woman like you must be involved with someone."

"Involved?" Wakaba thought as she knocked on the door. "Who has the time?"

Dr. Hitsugaya got up from his desk as she entered. He seemed no different from any of the other times she'd visited him. Dr. Hitsugaya had been the Tezawa family physician for nearly forty years. He'd delivered her, and he'd been a steady, comforting hand when she'd suffered through measles, vaccinations, puberty and her medical examination to qualify for college. He'd been the one she'd leaned on at her father's funeral because her mother was so consumed with her own grief. He had been a constant in her life for her entire life and he was no different now.

Or was he? Years of operating in the business world had given Wakaba Tezawa a sense of when someone was nervous, reluctant, disingenuous or distrustful. And Dr. Hitsugaya was giving off vibes that he would rather not be here.

"Now, Wakaba-Chan," he began as she sat down, still calling her "Wakaba-Chan" as his wife did, even though she was over thirty, "what can I do for you? Is it your mother?"

"Actually, Doctor," she answered, "it's my father." Hitsugaya feigned surprise, but he wasn't really. "You said my father died of a heart attack. Is it possible that he could have died of something else? Something that just looked like a heart attack?"

"Have you been talking to Dr. Chiba?" Hitsugaya asked.

"He stopped by the house, wanting to talk to Mother," Wakaba replied. "Has he talked to you as well?"

"Yes. He's trying to recover some memories he lost in a childhood auto accident," the doctor explained. "He seems to be convinced that his father visited your father at his home, and it was somehow connected to the accident. Personally I think it's just a coincidence that they both died hours apart, but someone suspicious, or desperate, might try to make a connection."

"So it isn't possible that Dr. Chiba's father may have killed my Dad, even accidentally?"

Hitsugaya leaned back in his chair. "When I arrived, your father was on the floor," Hitsugaya recalled. "His skin was cold and cyanotic, consistent with respiratory failure induced by cardio-pulmonary arrest. From the angle of the body, your father was either in his chair or rising from it and suddenly fell over. There was no bruising to indicate blunt trauma. There were no wounds on the body, so he wasn't shot or stabbed. Given these indications and his cardiac history, heart attack was strongly indicated."

Wakaba studied the doctor as he spoke. Everything he said seemed logical, given her limited medical knowledge. But it also seemed rehearsed.

"You don't have any idea what Dad and Dr. Chiba's father were talking about, do you?" she asked. "Could they have been arguing? Fighting perhaps?"

"There was no indication of any physical confrontation," Hitsugaya answered. "They may have been arguing. I really can't say."

"Could the argument have led to Dad's heart attack?"

Hitsugaya pondered that, the first genuine emotion he'd shown. "I suppose it's possible. A stressful situation could hasten the onset of the infarction. But it could just as likely have happened from your father climbing a staircase. It was going to happen." He became sympathetic. "Wakaba-Chan, there's no need stirring things up and opening old wounds. This Dr. Chiba is just trying to trigger his memories and he's grasping at any straw he can. Your father was a heart attack waiting to happen. It would have happened no matter what. The fact that it happened on the day Dr. Chiba's parents also died was just a coincidence. There's no need for you to worry yourself about this any longer. And there's certainly no need to worry your mother. She's suffered enough with this."

Standing and extending her best wishes, Wakaba left the office and returned to her car in the garage below the building. Everything Dr. Hitsugaya said to her seemed perfectly believable and she wanted to believe it. But everything about his body language told her that he was leaving things out. It left her unsure about more than one thing concerning the death of her father. And it left her with one thing she was sure of: He hadn't died of a heart attack.

Continued in Chapter 10


	10. Post Mortem

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 10: "Post Mortem"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>Junko paused at the door to her father's study. She found him at his desk, pouring over the stock quotes. It was his favorite hobby. Gert Tenoh fancied himself as skilled an investment analyst as the professionals and nothing got his energy flowing more than the thrill of chasing that investment, waiting for the proper moment and striking when profit was at its maximum. She had to admit that he wasn't bad at it, either. They had a comfortable life and, in economic times like these, that wasn't something to sneer at.<p>

"Dad," she said, waiting for him to lean back in his chair, a sign that the chase was momentarily over. "Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly," Gert said, gesturing her to a chair near the desk. The sight of his daughter always made him feel good. "You need help with your lessons, maybe?"

"No," she smiled, hiding her eyes. It was something he'd always asked. Sometimes she'd let him help her, even when she didn't need it, just to make his evening. Then her smile dimmed. "How to ask this?"

"Is someone giving you trouble?" Gert asked, fatherly concern rising.

"No, not that." Junko sighed. "Haruka told me about the Fiat. Actually, I made her tell me."

"Oh," Gert grunted sullenly.

"Be honest with me, Dad," Junko appealed to him. "Did you turn her down because you didn't think I should drive the Fiat - - or because it was Haruka offering?"

Gert looked away.

"I know that's why Mom didn't want to do it," Junko pressed the issue.

"Junko honey," Gert began. "We'll buy you a car. You just don't need a flashy car like that. I know it looks nice and it would impress everybody. But do you really need flashy things to impress people? Do you need to be different?"

"What's wrong with being different?" Junko shrugged.

"It's dangerous," Gert replied. "It invites trouble. It encourages people to oppose you, to try to impede your success."

"Yeah, but it's also honest," Junko said. "If I'm different in some way, should I hide that difference just to keep people from attacking me?"

"There's a time and a place for everything," Gert told her. "If being different means standing up for what's right, that's one thing. If it's just to draw attention to yourself, that's not so noble a thing. Eh?"

Junko thought about that.

"I just want you to be safe and happy, Junko," Gert offered. "And I don't think that flashy car is necessary to be safe and happy."

"Maybe," Junko said, then flashed him a wicked smile. "But it'd sure be fun to cruise in around school."

"Kids," Gert sighed.

"Just as long as it's not because of Haruka, Dad," Junko added, grasping his arm around the wrist. "I know you two are like oil and water now, but if you'd just give her a chance, I think you both can find common ground." The girl brightened. "Even if it's just deciding on what to give me. Because I'm holding you to what you said about the car."

"Go on," Gert replied, nodding to the door. But he did have a trace of a smirk on his face.

* * *

><p>Ami had arrived promptly at 5:38 pm. Usagi was busying herself with setting the table for seven, with the help of Makoto. Actually Makoto had started helping Usagi without being asked, because she just couldn't keep herself from allowing the haphazard way Usagi was setting the table to stand. Minako had arrived a half hour previously and was trying not to laugh as she watched Makoto correct every setting Usagi put out. Rei was watching dinner - - take out, as Usagi didn't dare subject them all to her cooking. While all of that went on, Mamoru and Luna briefed Ami and Minako on what had happened.<p>

"Two attempts?" gasped Ami. "Clearly there's someone threatened by the possibility that you recall more of that night than you have. Have you had any new memories, Mamoru?"

"A few," he said with a heavy heart. "I remember my father was agitated, that he was adamant we needed to escape Tokyo immediately. His demeanor made my mother upset," and then Mamoru paused and thought. "Although now that I think of it, it's possible that she already knew what he was upset about. Perhaps she even knew why he had gone to visit Tezawa-San." He scowled. "And he had a gun, tucked into his belt. And I really don't remember much of anything before that day."

"That's to be expected, Mamoru," Ami cautioned him. "Most early memories fade or are written over by the brain, unless they are associated with a powerful recall stimulus. However, a traumatic event such as the night your parents died would contain such a stimulus."

"Uh, not to be a killjoy," Minako piped up, "but is everybody else adding up these pieces like I am? Like maybe Mamoru's Dad didn't go over to Tezawa-Dono's to discuss the weather?"

"I think we've all entertained that scenario at one time or another," Mamoru replied. "I don't like the idea that my father could have been responsible for Tezawa-Dono's death. And I'd like to at least think it was justified if he was."

"Well, you don't have to be evil to kill," Minako offered. "It's like they say: There's a thin line between love and homicide."

Ami glanced at Minako, askance.

After Makoto pronounced the table fit to eat on, everyone sat down. Several books were put on one chair so Ichiro could participate, while Luna's bowl was placed on the counter so she could see everyone. Usagi dished out the food, the best take-out she could get from The Imperial Garden Chinese restaurant. As they ate, everyone could tell Makoto was struggling not to critique the food, though it was obvious she desperately wanted to.

"You say the private detective you visited was gone?" Luna ventured between bites.

"The office was locked up tight," Rei reported, "and the maintenance staff said they were told it would probably be like that until further notice."

"Looks like our boy Yamanaka decided to take a sudden vacation," Makoto added. "And I'm not sure if he's coming back. We didn't see any car in the garage that fit the description Mamoru gave us, either." She leaned over to Ichiro, struggling with a massive spoon full of chicken. "Small bites, Champ. You can eat like your Auntie Usagi when you get older." Usagi wrinkled her nose at Makoto, her plate nearly empty.

"Artemis is trying to trace Yamanaka-San's phone records to see if he can get a lead on the man's employer," Luna informed them. "He's also cross-checking with banking records."

"That's my Artemis," beamed Minako. "Give him enough time and he'll find out what size shorts Yamanaka wears."

"In the mean time, it doesn't get us any closer to the main questions," Rei summarized. "Namely who is trying to stop Mamoru and what secret they're trying to protect."

"I think we can safely say that at least part of the secret revolves around the death of Tezawa-Dono," Ami proclaimed. "Why he died, for one. Perhaps how he died as well."

"How would be pretty tough to solve thirty years later," suggested Minako. "Maybe I can get Superintendent Sakurada to get the body exhumed. It's a long shot, though."

"And unnecessary," Ami told them. "I can perform an autopsy tonight. In fact, I think that should be our next move."

Minako turned to Rei. "Oh, this ought to be good," she smirked. Rei smirked back.

* * *

><p>Sitting in a chair in the library of her mansion, Sukio Tezawa read a book. It was one of the many novels purchased at her behest, novels that filled the room. With the effects of her stroke and her disdain for television limiting her entertainment options, reading was one of the few distractions left to her. As a result, she kept the room filled with a large selection of the latest fiction, as well as a few biographies of people she admired. A pitcher of water sat on a table next to her, a glass beside it. There was no sound in the room, save for the faint whir of an electric clock in the corner.<p>

The sound of the door opening caused Sukio to look up. She found her daughter, Wakaba, peering in. It was almost as if she were sizing up the situation before venturing in. Sukio marked her place in the book and set it on her lap.

"You're home early today, Wakaba," the woman stated.

"Yes," Wakaba began, walking up to her mother. "I visited Dr. Hitsugaya this afternoon. After we finished, I decided to come on home rather than go back to the office."

"Are you not feeling well?" Sukio asked with motherly concern.

"I'm feeling perfectly fine," Wakaba replied. "I was asking him about Dad's death. About whether it was actually a heart attack like everyone thinks."

"He told you it was, didn't he?"Sukio inquired brittlely

Wakaba pulled up a chair. "Yes, he did," she said as she sat down. Then she looked directly at her mother. "But I don't believe him. I get a very concrete impression that he's covering."

"Nonsense," fussed Sukio. "Your father died of heart failure. That's all there is to it. Now you know how I feel about this subject, Wakaba. I'd rather not discuss it any further."

"Well I do," Wakaba insisted. The old feelings of supplication to her parental authority figure were swirling around her, but Wakaba Tezawa held firm against it. "Was there some sort of confrontation between Dad and this Chiba person? Did they get into some sort of fight? Did Chiba threaten him? Did Dad threaten Chiba?"

"Wakaba!" snapped Sukio. "I'm not going to discuss this!"

"Mother, if something happened that brought about Dad's death, I want to know about it!"

"Why?"

Wakaba sat back, surprised by the question. There was a touch of sadness to her mother's iron expression, a touch that whispered of a sea of regrets and heartache below the surface of the woman. The tenacity in which Sukio Tezawa clung to her dignity in the face of whatever secrets were choking her brought out the intimidating nature of the woman all over again. Wakaba struggled not to cave before it.

"Will knowing what happened bring him back to life?" Sukio asked. "He's dead, and nothing will change that. All you can do now by pursuing this is bring public scrutiny into our lives and shame his good name and the name of our family. Is knowing exactly what happened important enough to you to risk that?"

"How will it bring shame onto us?" Wakaba persisted. "What happened? You know, don't you?"

"How many times do I have to say I don't want to discuss this?" fumed Sukio.

"I'm sorry if this subject brings so much pain to you," Wakaba fought back. "It isn't an easy subject for me, either. I loved Dad. I respected him. He was a giant figure in my life, so much so that I followed in his footsteps because I thought that's what you did to be a successful, respected person. I was crushed when he died, just as much as you were. I wondered for years why, why did he have to go? And if it turns out that he didn't have to go, that he may have been taken from me . . .!"

"Wakaba," Sukio said with a firm, low voice. The woman stopped instantly and concentrated on her mother. "If you're searching for answers out of a need for vengeance, stop. Seeking vengeance will only destroy you."

"Is there something I have to avenge?" Wakaba questioned. Sukio fell stubbornly silent. "Do I have to have his body exhumed?"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" hissed the old woman, her eyes flaring with warning. "Your father's spirit is at rest! Don't you dare disturb it!"

"Then tell me what happened!" Wakaba volleyed back.

Sukio settled back into her chair and looked straight ahead. Her steely eyes were fixed on the bookcase on the far side of the room.

"Your father died of heart failure," Sukio said. "Anything else is just scurrilous, hateful speculation that dishonors him, his memory and the accomplishments he built. And I WILL NOT have him slandered or dishonored. Not even by you."

Wakaba let out a deep sigh of frustration. She rose from the chair and headed for the door.

"Wakaba," Sukio said, stopping her at the door. "Let this drop. Remember the good times with your father. Let those memories be his legacy to you. He wasn't a perfect man. But he was a good man."

Without comment, Wakaba exited the library. Sukio was left to wonder what her daughter intended.

Walking down the hall, her high heels clicking on the patterned linoleum floor, Wakaba traveled to the main reception room of the mansion. Digging out a phone directory, she paged through it until she found the home number for Mamoru Chiba. Her cell phone was out in seconds and Wakaba punched in the number.

"Usagi?" answered the voice on the phone. It was female and had a rich, cultured accent that almost sounded British. "Is that you?"

"No," Wakaba replied, startled. "Is this the Chiba residence?"

"Yes," the voice said, recovering after a moment's surprise. "Whom may I ask is calling?"

"I'd like to speak to Chiba-Sensei, please. This is Wakaba Tezawa."

"My apologies, but Chiba-Sensei is not home at the moment," the voice told her. "If you like, you may give me a number where he can reach you when he returns."

"Oh, very well," Wakaba replied impatiently and gave her cell phone number to the voice.

"Very good," she said. "And what, may I ask, was this concerning?"

"His father and my father," Wakaba answered. "He'll know."

* * *

><p>The five Sailor Senshi, accompanied by Mamoru, entered the cemetery where Midoki Tezawa was interred. It only took a few computer inquiries for Luna to track down where he was. Once there, it wasn't difficult to find him, as Tezawa had the most ornate marker in the place. Luna was home, watching Ichiro. It was evening, which Mercury had suggested to limit being witnessed there.<p>

"Master!" Venus suddenly exclaimed, imitating Peter Lorre as she mimicked walking with a hunchback. "We must hurry! The villagers will punish us for grave robbing if they find us here!"

"Will you grow up," scowled Mars.

"Obviously Tezawa-Dono wanted to let everyone in the place know that he had money," Jupiter commented as they approached the Tezawa plot.

"Or his family did," Mars added.

"Can we please hurry?" whimpered Sailor Moon. Everyone now noticed that the vaunted Sailor Moon was nervously clinging to Mamoru's arm. Her head skittishly turned left and right, as if she expected something unholy to jump out at her.

"What are you afraid of, Hon'?" Jupiter grinned. "Ghosts?"

"Among other things," Sailor Moon quavered.

"I can set up a barrier if it'll help," Mars said sarcastically.

"Would it take long?" Sailor Moon asked hopefully. Mars rolled her eyes.

"Sailor Moon, if you squeeze his arm any tighter, you'll cut off the circulation," Venus joked. The comment didn't seem to faze her, so Venus leaned in. "You know, he is married. And I hear he has a very jealous wife."

"Hush, Venus!" snapped Sailor Moon, while Mamoru chuckled.

"Remind me again why we're here transformed?" Jupiter asked.

"In case we're seen," Mars replied. "It'll be easier to explain than a bunch of civilians roaming around a cemetery at night. And in case there's more trouble. There still may be a target on Mamoru."

When the six arrived at the grave, Mercury materialized her senshi computer. She opened it and began typing.

"Oh, so THAT'S how you're going to do it!" Venus exclaimed.

"Precisely," Mercury replied, concentrating on the display. "The sophisticated scanning array in my senshi computer can give me a three-dimensional display of the contents of the coffin, along with telemetry, chemical composition and all other necessary data. I can perform a post-mortem on the remains without even touching them."

"No modern ghoul should be without it," chuckled Venus, nudging Jupiter.

Several minutes passed while Mercury completely scanned the grave. Everyone watched with anticipation, except Sailor Moon, who still expected to be set upon by Dracula or some monster at any moment. Mars could be heard softly chanting something, no doubt something to appease any spirit that their intrusion may have upset. A car passed on the road outside of the cemetery. Jupiter and Venus both watched it until it was out of sight.

"Very interesting," Mercury commented at length.

"What? The coffin is empty? It's got a different body in it? He was alive when they buried him?" Venus prodded.

"Will - you - be - quiet!" growled Mars.

"Mamoru, it's highly unlikely that your father shot Tezawa-Dono," Mercury said. "There is no indication on the skeletal remains of any gunshot wound to either the skull, chest cavity or extremities. Unless the bullet miraculously passed between the bones and exited. I calculate the probability of that as . . ."

"Nobody cares about the numbers!" Venus interrupted. "So Tezawa-Dono did die of a heart attack?"

"Maybe my father was going to shoot him, but Tezawa-Dono died from a coronary induced by fright," Mamoru speculated. Sailor Moon looked up at him sympathetically.

"Also unlikely," Mercury proclaimed. "I'm detecting significant amounts of potassium cyanide in the remains - - enough to be lethal." She looked up at everyone else. "It's my considered medical opinion that Tezawa-Dono was poisoned."

Continued in Chapter 11


	11. Who Killed Who

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 11: "Who Killed Who"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>"It's my considered medical opinion that Tezawa-Dono was poisoned."<p>

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Sailor Venus brought up her senshi communicator. Everyone looked at her.

"Artemis?" she said into it. "Connect my communicator to Superintendent Sakurada's cell phone." She looked up and noticed everyone was staring. "Sorry. After the whole business with Ace, I promised Sakurada I wouldn't keep her out of the loop again if I had knowledge of a crime." She looked back at her communicator. "And I'm kind of sure this qualifies."

"Well now we know the big secret someone was trying to protect," Jupiter summed up. "The question now is who. Because I have to think it's the same person who poisoned Tezawa-Dono."

"Or the person trying to stifle the inquiry knows who did do it," Mercury suggested. "But that is the more likely hypothesis, Jupiter. I'm curious as to why Tezawa-Dono was poisoned."

"Well, at least we know now that your father didn't kill him, Mamo-Chan," Sailor Moon said, looking up at her husband.

"That is a relief," Mamoru replied. "But it doesn't clear up what did happen. And it doesn't trigger any more memories for me."

Suddenly Sailor Mars knelt at the foot of the plot in which Midoki Tezawa was buried. Her arms went out at right angles from her body and bent at the elbow, bringing her hands together palm to palm before her face. The fire senshi's eyes were closed and she was softly mouthing a chant under her breath.

"Mars?" Sailor Moon inquired as the others looked on curiously. Venus was in the background, talking to Superintendent Sakurada as she gaped. For a moment, Mars ignored them all. Then her hands dropped to her lap.

"His spirit didn't linger," Mars said softly. Realizing for the first time that the others were watching her, Mars turned to them as she rolled to her feet. "I thought his spirit might be lingering on Earth, since he was murdered. I thought I might be able to communicate with that spirit. But he's passed on to the next life." She considered it for a moment. "He must be at peace with what happened."

"Well I'm not!" Venus proclaimed, her call finished. "I say we go over to Madame Tezawa's and ask her some pointed questions. Her daughter, too, and that doc if we can find him! There's a murderer out there and we are definitely NOT letting them get away with it!"

"What set you off?" Jupiter asked her as the others looked on. Venus read their faces and realized she was trying too hard.

"Sorry," she scowled. "It's just - - this is the first time I've felt normal since Ace blew town. It's really felt good being in the old short skirt and bows again."

Venus felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder. She glanced and saw it belonged to Jupiter.

"It gets better," Jupiter smiled.

"When?" Venus asked with a melancholy grin.

"When you least expect it," Jupiter told her. "Some day you'll be sitting at home fixing your breakfast and you'll suddenly notice that it doesn't hurt as much." She leaned in for emphasis. "And I KNOW what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, YOU probably do," Venus said, nudging Jupiter with her hip. Without warning, Sailor Moon's communicator signaled.

"Sailor Moon," they all heard Luna on the other end. "The apartment just received a call from Wakaba Tezawa. She'd like to talk to Mamoru as soon as possible."

Everyone looked at each other.

"Well, let's see what she wants," Mamoru said, bringing out his cell phone. "Could you give me the number she left, Luna?"

* * *

><p>Michiru Kaioh was placing the evening dishes in the dishwasher. Haruka was in the living room, trying not to brood over the latest row with her parents concerning Junko. Despite her mate's mood, Michiru was glad to have her. The Formula-1 season loomed on the horizon and the prospect of another six months of Haruka calling twice a week as she hopped across the globe to defend her points championship did not appeal to the artist. The simple pleasure of looking across the dinner table at Haruka as she shoveled food in her mouth - - a habit left over from her runaway days that Haruka never quite shed - - seemed to grow more precious every year when balanced against the nights eating alone and waiting for a phone call.<p>

And then the phone rang. Knowing Haruka was in the next room, Michiru went to answer it with a mood of puzzlement.

"Michi-Chan, I'm so glad I caught you!" the voice on the other end blasted with excitement. Of course, it was her easily excitable mother.

"Mom," sighed Michiru. "How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

"Oh, don't be a damper!" Constance Kaioh huffed. "I just have the absolute best news to tell you! Your father and I took the plunge!"

"The plunge?" Michiru questioned. "You mean you're getting back together?"

"That's right! Kuni-Bear and I - - um, Kunihiko and I decided that it was best. After all, we do still care for each other, and we haven't found anyone else. We are different people - - he's tried to be less rigid and Lord knows I've finally figured out how much of my life I was frittering away with empty partying." She let out a dramatic sigh. "And, well, we're both not getting any younger. So we figured that it was pointless to waste the rest of the time we had on convention and hurt feelings and stuff that just - - no longer applied to us." She thought a moment. "Does that make any sense?"

"I think it makes perfect sense, Mom," Michiru smiled. "I think Dad was happier with you than without you. And I think you've discovered that you're happier with him than with those empty suits and ball gowns you used to travel with." She stopped to dab at her eye. "So when's the wedding?"

"Oh, there isn't going to be one," Constance told her.

"No wedding? Why not?"

"Oh, Michi-Chan, I've already had my wedding," Constance replied. "And your father doesn't see the reason to go to the expense." The woman giggled to herself. "I guess we're just going to be living in sin. Ha ha ha!"

"Mom, nobody thinks that way anymore," Michiru said, shaking her head despite the smile on her face.

"And it's about time, too," proclaimed Constance. "People peeking in other people's windows, trying to see if they were doing something they didn't approve of. Never did take to those kind of people. Oh, but are you and Haruka free Sunday night?"

"I've warned you about those sudden conversation shifts, haven't I?" Michiru said, trying to mentally catch up. "What's happening Sunday night?"

"Your father and I would like to have you two over for dinner," Constance explained. "It's sort of a celebration of our getting back together, and of you two staying together. Think of it as an anniversary dinner - - unless yours is on another day. Just when is your anniversary, Michi-Chan?"

"We'd be delighted to come, Mom," Michiru answered, surrendering to laughter now.

"Oh, wonderful!" cooed Constance. "We get to be a family again. And I just love spending time with Haruka. She has SO many interesting stories from her career on the race track. Casual dress, now. I want us to be just one big happy family having dinner on a Sunday night!"

"Feet on the ground, Mom," Michiru playfully reminded her.

"I guess I am building up my expectations again," Constance said soberly. "I guess - - I've got so much to make up for, that I want to do it all at once. One step at a time. We'll see you Sunday."

"Good-bye, Mom," Michiru answered. She paused with her hand on the phone after replacing the receiver. Maybe it could work. Constance had made an effort to change her ways. So had her father, though he'd only admit it under torture. He'd even accepted Haruka into the family. Maybe it could work this time.

And something else her mother said, about enjoying the years together while there was still time. Who knew how much time she and Haruka had left together, given their calling as senshi and the dangers Haruka faced on the track. It didn't make sense to waste six months out of every year they had together waiting on phone calls and missing her.

Michiru smiled to herself. Plus she'd like to see Europe again. Maybe she and Haruka would actually get the chance to see more of it than just the inside of a hotel room this time.

Out in the living room, Michiru found Haruka on her cell phone. The woman's lanky frame was reclining on the sofa, with one leg propped up to provide her with a surface to write in a little notebook.

"Sounds like a good deal," Haruka said to the mystery party on the other end of the phone connection. "Can I start drawing on that in anticipation?" She listened to the answer. "Nah, don't worry about it. I can cover it. It's just a matter of shifting around a few things. Let me know when it actually goes down. I can't buy the Reventon until then." She listened to the answer. "OK, bye."

"What's up?" Michiru inquired.

"That was a dealer I know," Haruka explained. "He's going to sell the Fiat for me. Says he can get a pretty good price. Says he knows a couple of collectors who might be interested. I could even clear a profit over what I originally paid for it - - although not as much as I could have because of the mileage it's got."

"Well it is used," Michiru said.

"Odometer's important to some collectors," Haruka shrugged. "They're looking for something to display, maybe sit in. Not me. I don't buy a car to look at it. I buy them to drive."

"Well I'm glad selling it isn't going to be a problem," Michiru said. "I'm sorry you couldn't give it to Junko. I know you really wanted to do that, but your father was right about the concerns he had."

"Don't worry about it," Haruka said confidently. "I've got that little problem all taken care of."

"Oh?" Michiru asked warily. "How?"

"I'm going to make them an offer they can't refuse."

* * *

><p>Two cars drove up to the gate of the Tezawa mansion. The drivers of each got out and conferred.<p>

"I don't know how Tezawa-San will respond if all six of us go in," Mamoru told Ami. "Maybe you three should wait out here."

"As you wish, Mamoru," Ami nodded. "And good luck. I realize that there are more important concerns involved now, but I do hope that our efforts result in the restoration of your memory as well."

"Thank you," Mamoru said gratefully.

After checking in at the gate, the car containing Mamoru, Usagi and Rei pulled into the mansion grounds. Makoto and Minako emerged from the other car and met Ami as she returned. Ami explained the situation to them.

"Sentry duty, huh?" Minako frowned. "Sucks I won't get in on any of the action."

"Hopefully there won't BE any action," Makoto replied. She pulled out her cell phone.

"Checking up on your kids?" Minako smirked. "You know, when Akiko's twenty and married, and you insist on going along on her honeymoon so you can protect her, you're going to really embarrass her."

"Shut up," Makoto groused, nudging Minako away with her hip. Ami smothered a smile.

Inside the grounds, Mamoru pulled up to the house and parked the car. As the trio disembarked from the car, they noticed both Wakaba Tezawa and the butler, Mitsuzaka.

"It's all right, Mitsuzaka," Wakaba told the butler. "I've been expecting them."

"As you say, Tezawa-Sama," the man said, bowing to her. He turned and disappeared into the mansion. Tezawa walked up to meet them at the top step. She was still in her business suit, a long-sleeved white blouse with a navy bow at the neck and a knee-length navy skirt tailored snug on her. She had shed the jacket, though.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Chiba-Sensei," Tezawa said. She didn't bow to him and Mamoru didn't press the issue, a concession to her standing in the home and in the world. "There's a room off of my father's old office where we can talk privately."

The room was small, but elegantly furnished with a coffee table and several plush Queen Anne chairs. A framed picture of two samurai locked in a duel, painted by one of the great Japanese masters, dominated one wall. No sooner had they sat down then Mitsuzaka appeared with a silver tray and tea service, and a dish of cakes. Mitsuzaka poured tea for everyone, then quietly left the room. Rei chose to stand by the door and observe. Usagi surreptitiously snuck a cake. Mamoru concentrated on Wakaba Tezawa.

"Your earlier visit got my curiosity aroused," Wakaba began. "I made a few inquiries on my own and the answers I've gotten don't quite add up. I think you were right about your father meeting with mine that day. And I'm beginning to think my father didn't die in quite the manner I've been led to believe." She shifted uncomfortably. "I apologize for my earlier manner, but my mother can be difficult sometimes, especially concerning this subject. I would appreciate it if you'd tell me what you suspect and what evidence you have to back it up. I know you're not obligated to me. I'm just trying to learn the truth, just as you are. Perhaps we can find the truth if we work together."

"All right, Tezawa-San," Mamoru nodded. "I have to warn you that you may not like what you'll hear."

"Noted," Wakaba replied.

"We've been investigating as well. It's been discovered that your father didn't die of a heart attack."

"I knew it!" Wakaba hissed. "I could tell Dr. Hitsugaya was covering. I could just tell! Do you know what he died of?"

"Cyanide poisoning," Mamoru explained. "Cyanide interferes with the oxygenation of the blood. Oxygen deprivation often leads to seizures and cardiac arrest. At first glance, and without a post-mortem, cause of death can seem like a heart attack. It's possible Dr. Hitsugaya didn't investigate enough . . ."

"No, he knew," Wakaba replied, some bitterness in her tone. "How did you learn of this?" She noticed everyone tense, particularly Usagi.

"Sailor Moon has become involved in the case," Mamoru told her. "Through their special powers, they were able to scan your father's grave and find the cyanide residue."

"Sailor Moon?" Wakaba gasped in surprise.

"And they've reported their findings to the police," Mamoru continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if they present you with an exhumation order sometime soon."

"That would follow," Wakaba reasoned quietly. She suddenly looked up at Mamoru. "Who poisoned him? Was it your father?" She paused a moment. "I asked my mother about it. She wouldn't confirm it, but I get the impression that they did have a confrontation. Unfortunately she won't say over what. She may not know." Wakaba swallowed. "Did your father poison him? I know from my own research that he was angry with Dad about something."

"I think I remember that," Mamoru told her. "But he had a gun tucked in his belt that day. It's not likely that he'd poison your father when he could more easily shoot him."

"No, you're right," Wakaba nodded. She seemed to grow sad. Rei reacted instantly. "But who could have done it? And why? I know my father had enemies, but . . ."

Mamoru's cell phone suddenly signaled. While Wakaba pondered and Rei studied her, Mamoru answered the call.

"Mamoru, this is Ami," he heard. "Artemis has tracked down the cell phone records for the private detective, Renji Yamanaka. Several calls were exchanged between Yamanaka-San and a number listed for the Tezawa address."

"Tezawa-San," Mamoru said, covering the phone. "Do you know a Renji Yamanaka?"

"No," Wakaba answered. Rei's stare bore in on her. "Who is he?"

"A private detective who has been trying to hinder our investigation. He's exchanged calls with a phone number listed for this address."

"Which one?" Wakaba asked. "We have a household land line, a business line for my father's office, and both my mother and I have cell phones."

Mamoru gave her the number. The instant she heard it, Wakaba seemed to shrink noticeably.

"That's," the woman struggled to say, "that's my mother's cell phone." She took a moment to steady herself. "But why would she be calling . . .?"

At that moment, Mitsuzaka the butler burst into the room as if demons were chasing him. Everybody turned to him in surprise and Usagi dropped her second helping of cake.

"Tezawa-Sama!" he cried out. "Come quickly! It's your mother!"

Concluded in Chapter 12


	12. Truths Hidden In The Past

BAD MEMORIES  
>Chapter 12: "Truths Hidden In The Past"<br>A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

* * *

><p>Wakaba Tezawa entered the room first. Mamoru was just down the hall from her, Rei and Mitsuzaka at his heels and Usagi bringing up the rear. They all heard the audible gasp of shock and fear come from Wakaba. Entering the room, they found Sukio Tezawa slumped in a chair. Immediately Mamoru moved in.<p>

"No pulse," he murmured, checking the wrist, the skin and the eyes of the woman. "No respiration. Lips cyanotic, pupils fixed and dilated." He stood up and turned to Wakaba. "I'm sorry, Tezawa-San. Your mother is dead. First glance would tell me a massive myocardial infarction, but I'd be willing to bet an autopsy would show cyanide poisoning."

Wakaba just stared at the corpse of her mother, trying to grasp what was being said as well as her mother being dead. Usagi was crying by the door, while Rei moved toward the body with respectful silence. She began saying a soft prayer urging the spirit of the dead woman to pass on to the next life. Mamoru looked at the table next to the dead woman. By a small, empty bottle of cyanide poison was a small scroll with a white ribbon around it. Picking it up, he unrolled the scroll and read it.

"It's from your mother," Mamoru proclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "It's a suicide note."

"W-What does it say?" Wakaba asked.

"It says, 'I am the only one left who knows what happened that night. And so I will take that knowledge to my grave. I do this to protect the honor and good name of my family, which is more important than the truth. Let this act end all of the questions, for there are no more answers to find. Dr. Hitsugaya was well paid for his cooperation, but he only knows how Midoki died, not why. No one else knows anything. And they never will."

"Stubborn," Wakaba cursed softly. "Stubborn, stubborn woman."

"Did you want me to call the coroner's office?" Mamoru offered.

"No," Wakaba said, straightening up and exhibiting a strength of will that made her in some ways quite like her mother. "I'll have a private funeral home handle things."

"The police will want to talk to you," Mamoru reminded her.

"Let them," Wakaba replied. "I'm - - not really concerned about it right now." She turned and headed for the phone. "Would you excuse me, please? Mitsuzaka will show you to the door."

Everyone headed for the door. When they reached the street, Rei filled the other senshi in while Mamoru tried to console Usagi.

"That poor woman," she whimpered. "Was what she knew that terrible?"

"Maybe," Mamoru told her as he held her. "Or maybe the need to protect her family's reputation was that great." He paused and reflected. "Thirty years later and that night is still affecting lives." He thought a moment, then glanced at Usagi. "Maybe it's better if I left those events stay buried. Maybe there's nothing more to remember but tragedy and pain."

Getting into their two cars, Usagi, her husband and her friends drove back home.

* * *

><p>The next evening, the bell sounded at the front door of the Tenoh home. Being closest to the door at the time, Junko opened it.<p>

"Haruka?" Junko exclaimed with surprise. Immediately Himeko Tenoh's head popped out of the kitchen, looking to see if Haruka was doing anything improper with her daughter. "Hey, come on in! Can you stay long?"

"Junko!" Himeko hissed.

"Oh, Mom, it's just Haruka!" fumed Junko. "She's been here before and the gods didn't strike the place down with lightning!"

"Sorry, kid," Haruka replied. "I just came here to shoot a business proposition past your mom and dad." She glanced at Himeko, who was glaring at her with unconcealed venom. "Besides, I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Stop calling me 'kid'," Junko snarled playfully.

Moments later, the four estranged members of the Tenoh clan were sitting at the kitchen table. Junko looked expectantly at Haruka. Gert was wary, while Himeko still seethed with naked disgust. Haruka took a moment to summon her courage and quiet her anxiety.

"About the other day," Haruka began. It was clear what she was about to say was difficult for her. "I - - well, it's been pointed out to me that, well, you were right," she said, her eyes cast down, "about the Fiat, I mean. It's not a car for a beginner, and it's not - - well, there are better cars for every day commuting and stuff. That Fiat's a show car. It belongs in a show or with a collector."

"Well I'm glad you see reason," Gert said neutrally. Junko was silently wondering where this was going. "It's good that you listen to someone, at least." He paused. "So, you come all the way over here just to tell us that?"

"Nope," Haruka replied. She pulled a check out of her jeans pocket and put it on the table, pushing it to the middle. "I sold the Fiat. Got a nice price, too. And since I was going to give Junko the car as a graduation present, I decided to give her the check for the Fiat instead."

Gert looked down at the check and his eyes popped. Junko's mouth fell open, while Himeko sat stone-faced and dour.

"One hundred twenty-one MILLION yen?" Gert whispered.

"Haruka, are you serious?" gasped Junko excitedly.

"Serious," Haruka responded. "It's all hers. Buy her car with it. Finance her college education with it. Hell, buy her the biggest gumball machine in Southeast Asia with it. I don't care. It's what the car was worth and I was going to give her the car outright." Her eyes narrowed. "Unless it really wasn't about the car, but who was giving it to her."

"What makes you think we want money earned by your immoral lifestyle?" raged Himeko.

"You may have disowned me, but Junko and I haven't disowned each other!" Haruka snapped back. "It's MY graduation present to MY sister! And if you're not going to let her take it now, I'll just put it in a bank until she's twenty and give it to her then!"

"Mom, would you stop!" Junko barked. "Haruka's trying to be nice!"

"She's trying to lure you into her depraved lifestyle!" Himeko countered.

"Oh, would you STOP with that!" Junko cried.

"NAH!" Gert interjected, extending his arm to the center of the table. Everyone looked at him. "Let's all of us calm down." He turned to Haruka. "Haruka, this is a lot of money. You should do what you want with it."

"I am," Haruka replied stonily. "I'm giving it to Junko - - now or when she's twenty."

"But so much?" Gert goggled.

"If I win the points championship again this year, I'll make it back and more," Haruka told him. "I'm not hurting for money. The fact that I can buy toys like that Fiat should tell you that. I want Junko to have it."

"Gert!" Himeko hissed.

"Mama, we can't stop it. We can only hurt Junko," Gert told her. Then he rolled his eyes. "Ach, but the taxes!"

"You'll figure it out," Haruka said. She rose to her feet. "Well, that's all I came to say. See you around, Junko."

"Haruka!" Junko called out. Haruka paused and looked back at her. Junko looked at her. She seemed to be struggling to articulate her joy. Finally she stammered out, "Thank you."

"Happy to do it," Haruka smiled back warmly. "Don't blow it all too quick, huh?"

"Ha! Into the bank it goes!" Gert proclaimed.

"DAD!" howled Junko.

"Not another word on the subject!" Gert cut her off. Meanwhile Himeko just glared angrily at Haruka's back.

The disowned child of the Tenoh family was about to close the front door when Junko caught her.

"Haruka, I," the teen stammered. "This is so cool what you did! You are the best!"

"Thanks, kid," Haruka smiled.

"But stop calling me 'kid', damn it!" Junko fumed. Then she noticed the Fiat was parked in the street. "Hey, I thought you sold that?"

"Deal's still closing," Haruka shrugged. "I wrote the check out of my account and I'll replace it with the sale check. I figured why wait?" She glanced at the car. "It's sort of my farewell drive." A thought occurred to her. "When I get the Reventon, how about I take you for a drive in it?"

"How about you let me drive it?" Junko bargained.

Haruka stared at her. She seemed almost shocked.

"Come on, Haruka! I know how!"

The lanky blonde swallowed like something unkind lay in her stomach.

"OK," Haruka sighed. "But I'M riding shotgun!"

"Grown ups," huffed Junko.

* * *

><p>Spring was approaching. At Hikawa Shrine, Rei Hino was walking through the dormant gardens, inspecting how the plants had survived the winter. Deimos was perched on one shoulder, while Phobos occupied the other. Occasionally a guest would pass her and Rei would give them a warm greeting. One of the guests was intimidated by the glare Deimos gave her and hurried off.<p>

"Deimos, be nice," Rei whispered, though she couldn't help but be amused by the incident.

There was something in the air, something that said 2010 was going to be a good year. Maybe she was having a premonition. Maybe she was just being overly hopeful. But wouldn't it be nice if it were true?

A sudden sensation more than anything else caused her to stop. As she turned to it, Deimos suddenly took flight and headed for the trees. Startled, Phobos joined her sister. Rei looked. Standing on the bridge over the pond was a man. He was tall, black and muscular like an athlete. His suit was well-crafted and accentuated his body well. The two just looked at each other for a moment. Neither made any attempt to move toward the other.

"Hi, Rei," Derek Johnson said.

"Mr. Johnson," Rei replied neutrally.

"Oh," Derek replied, spirits falling. "It's going to be like that, huh? Well, I can't say I'm surprised." He turned to leave.

He took four steps before Rei worked up the courage to call out "Derek!" Derek turned back to her. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me." She dropped her gaze. "I am glad to see you again."

"But it's still too soon?" Derek added, voicing the unspoken thought of the priest.

"I'm sorry," Rei said. "I know you didn't try to hurt me on purpose."

"Yeah," Derek nodded cautiously. "I just figured, since I'm going to be playing with the Giants again - - since we're going to be in the same city, I thought . . ."

"Maybe we could pick up where we left off?" Rei said, voicing his unspoken thought in that eerie manner she had.

"But if it's still too soon," Derek began, then trailed off. "If that's not possible," and he smiled hopefully, reminding Rei of one of the reasons she was so attracted to him, "I'll settle for friends."

"It is still too soon," Rei advised him. "Maybe it always will be still too soon." A timid smile inched up her mouth. "But I think I might be able to do friends."

"That's good," Derek said, encouraged. "It's always good to have friends - - especially friends with 'connections'. Put in a good word for my OPS, huh?"

"Sure," grinned the priest.

"You interested in a season pass to the Giants' games? I think one of the reasons I bombed out in San Diego was because you weren't cheering me on."

"In that case, it's my duty to say 'yes'," Rei beamed. "But don't mess up. I'll let you know about that, too."

"Kind of figured," Derek smiled.

* * *

><p>Sailor Pluto was at her post by the Door Of Time. She spoke with Queen Serenity and King Endymion, who had come from their year of 2056 into the timeless limbo where the Door Of Time resided, to visit Pluto as they did periodically. During their conversation, Serenity had noted the death of Wakaba Tezawa at the age of seventy-nine. It set the Queen to reminiscing about the incidents of 2010, which set Endymion to do so as well. To their surprise, Pluto had taken up the conversation as well.<p>

"But Sukio Tezawa was wrong in thinking no one else knew what happened that day in 1982, though she had no way to know this," Sailor Pluto said. "I knew. With my unique ability to see all that has been and all that will be, and all that will never be, I know what event set in motion that which led you to where you are today."

"Then tell us, please!" gasped Serenity excitedly.

"Unless that knowledge will affect the time line," Endymion added cautiously.

Pluto smiled briefly. "It will do no harm to the time line," she said. "Though I am not certain you will be happy once you know the truth."

"I've wondered about that time for so long," Endymion replied. "I think I'd rather know, since you've given me the choice."

"As you say, my King," Pluto nodded. "Midoki Tezawa was happy with his life, until he met your mother. He was instantly attracted to her and as time passed became more and more infatuated with her."

"Really," Endymion replied ominously. Serenity looked at him with concern.

"Finally his infatuation drove him to make advances toward your mother," Pluto continued. "He repeatedly sought to tempt her to his side. When she refused him, he began making veiled threats to your father's position in the company should she not comply. She told your father, to warn him of his superior's treachery, perhaps to motivate him to seek another position with another firm."

"Yes," Endymion mumbled, lost in a memory that had been locked away for seventy-eight years. "I heard them. My Dad was angry. I thought he was angry with Mom or me, but I remember now. She tried to keep him there, but he stormed out of the house. Mom just stared out the window for the longest time. That's when I pulled the flowers out of her garden, to give them to her as a present and try to cheer her up. She was so upset."

"For she did not expect your father would seek out Tezawa and threaten him with a gun to protect her," Pluto said. "Would he have shot Tezawa? History would have been much changed if he had, but he did not. Nor did he have the chance."

"The poison?" Endymion asked.

"At the moment your father drew his weapon, Tezawa grew dizzy. It stayed your father's hand. Then Tezawa fell over, gasping for air, and died. Panicked, your father ran from the room, thinking he was responsible." Pluto leaned in. "But he was not."

"Who poisoned him?" Endymion inquired. "Was it Madame Tezawa?"

"It was," Pluto answered. "She had learned of her husband's unwanted advances toward your mother. In a fit of anger and jealousy, she poisoned his tea with cyanide."

"How horrible!" Serenity exclaimed.

"A fact she soon realized," Pluto added. "Madame Tezawa spent twenty-six years swallowed by pain and regret over a simple act of passion."

"An act that took three lives instead of one," Endymion mused. "I don't think Dad would have been in such a hurry if he hadn't thought he was fleeing a murder charge."

"I am sorry for bringing you such painful news, my King," Pluto offered.

"No," Endymion shook his head. "It clears up some things I've always wondered about." He thought a moment. "But knowing that doesn't seem to help bring back all the memories I lost because of the accident."

"If I may," Pluto proposed. "Your loss is not the memories before the accident, for they would have faded regardless. You were a normal boy. You laughed, you played, you learned, and you were loved. The loss is the memories you would have had were it not for the accident."

"And you can't bring back what you never had," Endymion said. "But one good thing did come out of all of that tragedy."

"What's that?" Serenity asked.

"It put me in that hospital room that day," Endymion smiled at Serenity, "and allowed me to meet you."

Serenity beamed at him, stars in her eyes.

"And that reminds me," Endymion continued, turning back to Pluto, "who was it who pulled me from the crash that night? I assume you know."

"I do," Pluto replied, lowering her gaze. "But it is something I do not think I should reveal."

Endymion seemed momentarily disappointed. "If you think so, I'll take you at your word. I just wish I could thank whoever it was."

"I am sorry," Pluto said. Then she rose, as if she saw something no one else had. "Thank you for your visit. Your company is always welcome, but you have spent enough time with me. A great many other people have need of you."

Exchanging good-byes, the Royal Couple departed through the temporal nexus into the real time world. Pluto watched them depart, then grew wistful.

"Your gratitude honors me, My King," Pluto murmured as she continued to stare at the temporal nexus, "but I was only doing that which was needed of me. You are far too important to the future Crystal Tokyo to have died that night. Far too important to my beloved Queen," and she paused as a lump formed in her throat, "and far too important to me."

Conclusion


End file.
